Past Sins, New Crimes
by DawnFromTheDark
Summary: Terry finds himself faced with a new costumed criminal who has appeared to steal more than just tangible objects. As he tries to bring her to justice, it becomes difficult to determine which of they is the hunter and which one is the hunted. TerryxOC. Rated T for language and violence.
1. In the Dark

**Chapter One: In the Dark**

* * *

_"Reporters have been calling her the Raven,"_ Bruce Wayne's gruff voice came over the radio in Terry's cowl as he informed his young apprentice, _"so far they have no leads as to her identity nor was there any evidence at the crime scenes,"_ there was a pause, coupled with the sound of someone typing away on a keyboard, _"I thought she might be an out-of-towner, but I haven't been able to match her to other crimes anywhere else."_

The younger Batman listened carefully as he expertly navigated his way through the lofty towers in the city, "Maybe she changed her methods, you know, to avoid someone seeing a pattern," he suggested.

_"Maybe,"_ Bruce considered the possibility for just a moment, _"but I doubt it, she's a very unique sort of criminal," _he paused again but this time the line was dead quiet, _"**my** sort of criminal."_

It took a few seconds for the comment to sink in, "She's a costumed?" he asked.

_"How do you think she got the name Raven,"_ the old man replied with a hint of arrogance, _"eye witnesses say she wears a mask with a beak, all black. Come on kid, don't watch the news?"_

A dark figure danced gracefully from rooftop to rooftop, catching Terry's eyes. As he looked closer he noticed her distinctive silhouette, "Speak of the devil," he muttered as he engaged auto-pilot so he could slip out into the night after her.

_"And she appears,"_ Wayne finished for his young companion.

* * *

Raven. She hadn't picked the name but she liked it, Raven just fit her, the dark bird theme was what she was going for and thank heaven someone had picked up on it. Of course she couldn't take complete credit for the costume either, her grandmother had come up with the design, well after she had refused to be the cat, still it was hard to deny that the costume hadn't served its purpose, so she kept wearing it.

The penthouse was coming up, one more leap, which she easily landed on the balls of her feet from, right in between the roof sensors. Her eyes swept over the door, the lenses on her mask revealed a weak spot in the door at the bottom. Whoever planned the security system wasn't cautious enough. Good.

The owner wouldn't be back for another three hours, more than enough time for her to get in and out. Pulling a laser out of her sleeve, she sliced away the bottom, unguarded, foot of the door, before she peeled the metal back. After that, she simply crawled in, piece of cake.

* * *

Terry followed her shadow into the building, she moved so quietly, without a single sound, so he had to keep her in his sight line in order not to lose her. She was in all black, head to toe, with the elegant bird mask covering her whole face, just as Bruce had said; it was hard not to notice how tight the suit was on her curves.

"Focus," Wayne warned the young man, though he really didn't have a lot of room to talk, his past with woman and all.

The Raven, whoever she really was, seemed to know exactly where she was going, never pausing through the twisting hallways, showing him that this robbery was carefully planned. At the end of the hall, he watched her stop at the last door, crotching down to fiddle with the lock.

* * *

Inside the security was child's play, each door was locked with sensors, sure, but as long as she stayed in the middle of the hall it didn't matter, idiots. Finally, her door appeared and she went to work on the lock. Taking a device she had design herself out of her belt, she placed it carefully over the keypad that stood in her way from the prize. With a simple click the door slide open. She knew better than to step on the floor, this room was more secure than the others, instead she leaped across the room, landing on the desk. Leaning over to the wall, she placed her device on the false wall of the bookshelf, and waited for it to work its magic.

Then the back of her neck prickled, "Damn," she muttered, almost too quiet to be audible. How could she have been so careless, not watched her back close enough? She knew he would show up sooner or later, she had just sort of hoped for later, a lot later. As she began to turn so she could face him, he jumped out of the darkness, tackling and sending her tumbling to the floor, where she knew immediately they had tripped a silent alarm.

He didn't have her pinned down very well though, her hand came around his neck and as she pulled his face closer, she whispered in his ear, "My, my, the famous Batman paying little ol' me a visit," she managed to wiggle her legs between his body and hers, "I'm touched," she said right before she kicked him off of her, his body hitting the wall with a thud.

As she jumped to her feet, she pulled out a pill sized capsule from her sleeve, "Unfortunately, I really must be going," and with she threw item forcefully to the ground. Gas encircled the two struggling figures, and she knew with great certainly that it would only affect him. Her mask wasn't just decoration but acted as a gas mask as well. In seconds, Batman was choking on her poison and she attempted to finish her job.

The safe had been successful cracked thanks to her device and she was ready to claim its treasure. Her fingers closed around a thick brown package but as she secure it an arm came around her throat, dragging her back.

He was choking violently, but this Batman was relentless, as he pulled her farther from the safe. She was more than a head shorter than him but did not know all her secrets. Capsules were not her only weapon. Flexing her finger, claws extended through her gloves and she dug them through his suit, into his flesh.

The pain clearly surprised him and his gripped slacked enough for her to slip out of it. She picked up a heavy statue from the desk and threw it out the window, causing it to shatter, there was no need to be subtle anymore, her cover was blown. Without pausing, she jumped out of the hole and into the engulfing night.

* * *

_"You lost her,"_ Bruce stated as Terry made his way out of fog, the words an accusation.

Scanning the skyline, Terri was disappointed to find the Raven had indeed vanished, "I'm sorry, you were right, she's **that** good," the new Batman mumbled back as he returned to his hover-car.

_"Get back on patrol, McGinnis,"_ the old man ordered, and Terry knew all was forgiven.

* * *

**AN: So I'm a huge Batman geek and so I couldn't stop myself from writing a fanfic about it, because that's what all good fanatics do, right? Well what the real answer is, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, my friend, and I hope you keep reading. **


	2. An Old Friend

**Chapter 2: An Old Friend**

**AN: Thanks so much for deciding to read more of my story. I'****m hoping to be able to update once a week but no promises, my life is pretty busy. But enough of that, I'm sure you don't care, so enjoy the chapter, my friend.**

* * *

He was in hot water, he could tell when she stopped answering his messages, damn. It wasn't easy having a double life and of course, Dana didn't understand, she couldn't. Still when he saw her sitting in class he had to try.

"Don't even think about it, Terry," Dana spat at him as he tried to approach her. Well that didn't work out as he had hoped.

The only other open seat was by Cyla Drake. Way back when he wasn't anywhere close to the straight and narrow, they were really good friends, not so much anymore. For all he knew she was still in her old gang. When he sat down, she looked over at him curiously, "You must be in some serious trouble if she'd rather have you sit next to me," Cyla muttered, looking away from him as she typed away on her computer.

He didn't bother to respond but that didn't seem to stop Cyla from keeping the conversation alive, "So what'd you do this time, lover boy?" she asked coldly, with almost a tone of disinterest and annoyance, "forget the cream in her highness's latte or perhaps you didn't hold the umbrella just right and a drop of water fell on her precious head."

The comment stopped Terry cold and he turned to glare at her, "Hey, just 'cuz she's not from your side of the river doesn't make her some spoil brat, Cyla," he growled at her.

"I see I hit a nerve," Cyla replied carelessly, only glancing at him for a moment, "I'll keep that in mind."

It was now Terry's turn to look at her curiously, he didn't remember her as such a cold fish, so down right mean; true she wasn't exactly the lovey-dovey sort but totally indifference had never been her style before. There was no time to press the issue, class had started and he had to give his attention to the lesson or he risked allowing his grade to decline farther.

* * *

"Cyla!" Terry called after the blond haired girl as she hurried out of class, "hey, Cyla, wait up," regardless of the fact she was completely ignoring him, Terri managed to catch up with her.

Her icy blue eyes cut into him like a sword, "What do you want, McGinnis?" she huffed as she pulled her books closer to her chest.

"What do you mean?" an offended look crossed the young man's face as he stared at her in disbelief.

"Yesterday and for years now I've been dead to you," she reminded him, keeping her eyes fixed on the hallway ahead, completely refusing to look him in the eye or stop for him, "you spent some time in juvi and you decide to go straight and suddenly no one from your old life seems to be good enough for you. So forgive me if I have no desire to talk to you."

"Hey I tried to talk to you went I got out," Terry countered, knowing he had a solid point, "but all you cared about was trying to get me to join your stupid gang," he grabbed her arm and spun her around, which forced her to stop walking and face him.

Without much difficulty, Cyla wrenched her arm out of his grip, she was stronger than he remembered, for such a short girl, "There you go again, judging me," she snapped at him, her teeth bared, "look, I may not be perfect but it's not like I have a lot of choices."

"There are always choices, better choices," Terry moved in close, too close, his face was all she could see in her vision. Cyla's shoulders curled in, and she looked incredibly uncomfortable with the lack of personal space.

As she opened her mouth to retort an arm wrapped around Cyla, causing her to flinch, "McGinnis bothering you, Drake?" Bruno growled as he protected his best friend, his brown eyes flashing violently.

For moment, Cyla stood in silence as she looked Terry up and down, sizing him up as if she was debating allowing Bruno to beat Terry up, "No," she finally replied, turning her back on her former friend, "I was just saying goodbye actually."

"Well then let's get outta' here," Bruno suggested as Cyla took his lead down the hallway, leaving Terry behind them.

"Hey Terr," Maxine materialized at Terry's side, "come on, we're going to be late for computer class."

* * *

"You seemed distracted tonight, Terry," Bruce commented after the Batman successfully stopped a particularly hairy armed robbery and was moving on to the next scumbags, "something more important on your mind?" he asked as if he couldn't imagine anything could be more important then being Batman.

"Just some girl at school," Terry replied truthfully, there was no reason to lie to the old man, Bruce had a way of figuring things out eventually.

There was a brief pause, "Dana?" Bruce asked, he didn't let it show in his voice but Terry liked to think the old man actually cared.

"No," the young man answered as he continued to scan the outside of a warehouse where Powers was suppose to have an illegal shipment of chemicals coming in. So far all was quiet but Wayne was positive about his hunk.

"Max?" the old man tried again. Now they were just killing time until the truck showed up, neither of them liked boredom very much.

"No," Terry huffed, giving up and telling Wayne her name, "Cyla. We were friends when we were little, she's from the wrong side of the river, so to speak. Got herself mixed up in a gang, they call themselves the Misfits, when I was in juvenile detention. I just talked to her for the first time in years today."

Before Terry had finished talking, Bruce had looked up all the information able on the Misfit gang, "The Misfits are less of a gang and are more like a criminal organization. They operate mostly underground, in old subway tunnels, that they call the Pipes. They have some of the best hackers and computer techs as their members, as well as an impressive amount of trained muscle."

"Hey," Terry interrupted his mentor, "a history lesson on the Misfits doesn't help Cyla," he grumbled.

"So that's it, you want to save this girl," Bruce deducted, "I thought after the whole Big Time situation I thought you would've learned your lesson. Some people will always refuse to be saved, Terry."

"I can't just-" Terry was cut off by the sound of a delivering truck pulling up a warehouse door that was beginning to open, "never mind, I have to go," he muttered as he jumped down from his perch.

* * *

"Let's call it a night," Bruce decided after Terry successfully stopped the chemicals from getting into Power's hands.

As exhausted as Terry was he was surprised by the old man's words, "Are you sure?" he questioned, it wasn't that late, he could keep going, "don't you want me to look for the Raven?"

Terry wasn't sure but he thought he heard Wayne laughing at him, after a few moments the old Batman spoke, "Missing your fellow winged friend?" he asked in both a mocking and knowing tone.

"No," Terry was taken aback for a moment, "I just wanna' caught her, you know?" he slightly offended by the thought that he wanted to see her again. Although in the back of his mind, he couldn't deny the accusation.

"Well I won't stop you if you want to keep going," Bruce replied bored.


	3. The First Puzzle Piece

**Chapter 3: The First Puzzle Piece**

* * *

She needed to get out, stretched her costume out and do some rooftop jumping, plus maybe some thieving too. Leaning against a stone statue, she watched curiously as the sleek black and red craft passed by. She watched it closely, "Batman," she muttered as she got to her feet. For several moments she just watched him until the ominous vehicle disappeared from view.

Stepping back a few paces, she gave herself a running start as she leaped to the next building. Still she couldn't stop herself from looking over her shoulder again to make sure he hadn't appeared. God this was making her paranoid, her only hope was to just not end up like her grandmother, anything but that.

"Just say out of my way, Batman," she muttered, though she knew he couldn't hear her, "or I will hurt you. I won't go to jail, there's too much at stake."

* * *

_"The Raven's been quiet lately,"_ Bruce noted over the cowl as a particularly uneventful night wore on, _"not a new robbery or even a sighting to go off of."_

"You think I scared her away?" Terry questioned as he scanned the nighttime city, his grey eyes searching as he was unable to hide the slight disappoint in his tone. In the back of his mind, he knew he could've called it an early night, take the jet back, spend some time with Dana but surprisingly he just didn't. He didn't know why. Besides if he took Dana out all he was going to hear about how he never spent anytime with her **as** he was spending time with her.

Bruce's voice pulled the young apprentice out of his own tangled thoughts, "It's doubtful that she's gone for good, maybe a little spooked but we haven't seen the last of her. I'd bet my fortune that this one plans to stick around for a while."

There was a few minutes of silence as Terry took a sharp turn and a moment to think, "I'll keep looking," Terry promised, not just for Wayne or the city, but also some part, for himself too.

* * *

Triumph. She was on cloud nine as she climb up to a ledge, her prized secured on her belt; Batman had been out on the prowl but he hadn't caught her. It felt good to be able to so easily slip from his clutches. This new Batman wasn't as frightening as the one her grandmother had describe.

Jumping expertly to another building, she found as she scaled the building that luck was not through being so wonderfully good to her. At first seeing the sleek craft, even stationary, froze her in tracks as she waited for his shadow to appear. Waited for something bad to happen, anything to happen. Nothing did. She took a tentative step towards it, pausing as she waited for it to come to life, hum in its quiet threatening way, when it didn't she weighed her options in her mind. As much fun as it would be to take the baby for a joyride the risk seemed unnecessary and more likely to end her up in a jail cell, no thanks; instead she flexed her fingers, extending the claws, and decided to have a little fun with a cruel smile playing on her lips.

She had barely finished scratching out the first letter, when she felt eyes staring into her, _his_ eyes, it was impressive, he could be quieter than herself sometimes, which was a rare skill. Forcing breath to expel from her lungs, she manage to keep herself composed as she processed her situation, the one she had hoped to avoid. Well that luck was short-lived.

Fear shot through her mixed with another emotion that she had neither the time nor care to process, instead she did her best to push both of them away, as she kept her posture neutral, refusing to reveal anything, "My dear," she called to him though she didn't turn around, "why, you're home early."

"I'm sorry, I should've called first," he replied, going along with her game, "that way we've could've avoided this awkward interruption."

A smile ticked on her face as she forced herself to slowly turn around, there he was, the Batman, standing on a ledge least a half dozen feet from her, staring her down. Taking a chance, she boldly jumped over to his ledge, leaning far into his personal space, "Miss me, Batman," she cooed, her still clawed fingers lightly danced up his stone chest.

He stared at her in silence for a few moments, as if he was debating what to say or what to do about her touch, "What if I said yes," he answered her with another question, one that threw her completely off, and she wondered if she heard him right.

Still, she refused to show her hand, "Afraid I'll fly away," she asked him, leaning her weight on him and pushing his back up against the wall of the building, "afraid you'll never see me again," she was mocking him to hide her own fears of him.

He paused again, "Yes, I'm afraid I won't get to see you behind bars," his words shattered the little fantasy that their pretending had created. She wished it didn't bothered her as much as it did, why did she let it? His fingers closed around the stolen item she had attached at her hip, "and the owner will never see this again," he tugged on the package make his point clear.

"How do you know it's not mine," she replied, pasting on her best innocent expression, though it lost it's effect since it was mostly covered by her full face mask, "it's not like you saw me steal anything tonight," she drew a circle into the center of his chest, applying enough pressure to remind him this bird had talons.

He chuckled at her, a sound she could feel against fingers, "A master thief carrying around something she didn't steal?" he was still laughing at her as he pretended to debate the possibility, "it's so unlikely that it's comical."

"Master thief?" she perked up, forgetting to act offended that he was right about her theft, as she couldn't over look the wonderful compliment he had afford her, even if it wasn't on purpose, "oh Bats don't you know just what to say to a girl to make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

Standing herself up on her tiptoes, she managed to whisper in his ear, "If this mask wasn't in the way I'd be tempted to kiss you," there was a mischievious glint in her eyes when she pulled away to look at him. Inwardly though, her thoughts were not as calm as her exterior, she knew she needed the stolen item, she also knew if this were to turn into a question of strength he would without a doubt win, and not because she was weak but she could tell his suit was high tech and her's was just a jumpsuit, there was one option. Then, without warning, she leaned back and gracefully free fell from the ledge, still trying to hold tight to her prize.

* * *

Shock was the first thing to wash over Terry as he scrambled to reach for the falling woman, missing her wrist by centimeters, there was the sound of ripping fabric, and when he looked down he realized he had let the package spill out of his fingers, but she must have ripped her suit in the process.

_"Well look around,"_ Wayne growled, clearly not happy about her getting away for a second time, _"see if she dropped anything."_

Terry followed orders, and it took a matter of moments for his eyes to spot a shining metal square object smashed against the concrete where it landed. Landing lightly on the ground, Terry picked up the evidence, _"I've never seen this in production from any company I know," _Wayne commented as his apprentice continued to inspect the item, _"looks like it was fabricated by hand. Bring it in."_

* * *

Three days, two different people and no answers, Max told him it was an information disc but the whole thing was some sort of code, one she couldn't crack. That explanation made Terry's eyebrow shoot up in question, "What do you mean you can't figure it out?" he questioned.

"Exactly what you heard," Max replied hotly, equally frustrated with the results, "look maybe you should let someone else take a look at them."

"Someone else?" he wasn't liking where this was going, "I thought you were the best. Who else would I go to?"

Max jabbed her finger at his chest, "I am the best McGinnis," she told him, then her voice lost a little of its edge, "but there's a girl that's better than me, at least at that homemade and code stuff."

"Well who is she?" he demanded.

"Your favorite person," Max answered tentatively, "Cyla Drake."

Going up to Cyla was awkward, Terry had to wait until her shadow, Bruno, left her alone, and even then he wasn't quite sure how he was going to get her to do a favor for him. Finally he was sure he had found a good time. She was leaning against the wall, there was shadow across her face; no, as he walked closer to her, Terry saw it wasn't just a shadow, there was an ugly bruise on her cheek. Without thinking, he reached out and gingerly brushed his thumb across the purple mark.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, McGinnis?" Cyla growled as she pulled her face away from his hand, cringing from the contact. The reaction made Terry's stomach knot up, this wasn't going as planned.

A sheepish expression crossed Terry's face as he shoved his hands in his pockets, "How'd you get that bruise?" he asked, looking from the mark to her icy eyes, "it looks pretty nasty."

"Why do you care?" Cyla countered as she began to walk away from him, "I mean seriously, it's not like we're friends or anything."

"I figure someone's got to look out for you, clearly Bruno isn't doing a very good job at it," he gave another pointed look at her injury as he hurried after her. He was sure it didn't go unnoticed by her that he hadn't really answered her a question at all though truthfully he wasn't even sure himself.

Cyla let out a snort, "Please McGinnis, I don't need a guardian, from anyone," she told him, before she suddenly stopped and glared him down, "now tell me what you really want from me. I know you didn't start talking to me because you suddenly gave a shit about my welfare."

Terry's eyes fell to the ground, she was right after all, and he pulled the computer part out of his backpack, it fit easily in his palm, "My boss wants the information off of this, but it's buried deep in code," he lied, the words falling easily, maybe too easily, from his mouth, "I think it's shady but I have to do it, you know, it's my job."

Cyla's eyes were as big as saucers as she stared at the object, "Where did your boss get that?" she demanded, trying to snatch it but he was too quick, Terry had closed his fingers around it.

"Why, do it look familiar?" his eyes narrowed.

She nodded, trying to get a look at it again, "It looks like something we make in the Pipes," she grabbed at his hand but to no avail, "come on McGinnis let me see it."

"In the Pipes?" he repeated in an almost far off voice.

"Yeah," she huffed, "no way to trace it if you make it by hand, I wonder which contract this one is under," finally, while he was distracted, Cyla managed to retrieve the item and study it carefully, "I bet I still have the decoding specs for this too, it doesn't look too old."

"Can you just send it to me," he asked, doing his best to be nice, "my boss doesn't want to many people to see this."

"I can't," Cyla answered, "the Pipes are on our own grid and if I get caught sending decoding software out, I'm dead, literally," with no other choice, Terry handed the only copy of evidence on the Raven over to another criminal. Bruce was going to kill him.

* * *

**AN: Okay so this chapter is a bit longer than the others but I hope you like it. I managed to get more published than promised but don't get to comfortable with this, my life can get crazy at the drop of a hat. Anyway, I love all of y'all that seem, already, so interested in my story, you're wonderful. **


	4. The Knock Out Round

**Chapter 4: The Knock Out Round**

**AN: Everyone who seems actually interested in my story, you're wonderful. I never thought everyone would really care about a story written by little old me.**

* * *

Her shadow stretched out across the rooftops as the sun faded into reds and purples against her dark silhouette. Her cold eyes shrewdly scan the city and her anger could be felt in the air around her. It didn't take long for her to find what she was looking for, or more specially who; as he glided toward her, she raised her arm, revealing the piece of computer technology between her fingers. That got his attention.

As he landed, she saw by his body language that he expected a little chat like before, but he was a fool and she would afford him no more pleasantries. With one swift motion she let the object slide into the pocket inside her sleeve before she jumped at him, both knocking him to the ground and landing on top of him, where she pinned him down. One hand cruelly forced his head down and to the side, while the over hovered threatening over his throat.

"They call you brave and bold and such a great masked detective," she growled into his ear, the invasion of personal space was becoming a normal occurrence for them, but this time was different, this time was threatening with an almost promise of violence, " but you're a coward, using children to do your dirty work, tricking high schoolers," by the way he stiffened at her words she knew she had hit a nerve, "yes I know, Batman. What, did you think I won't keep track of my things? That I'm not connected with the people I do business with? Do you think I was born yesterday?"

As he struggled feverishly to get free but she was smart in her positioning and there was nothing he could do, "How?" was all he seemed to be able to grunt out.

"Do you want to know why I picked to have my tech done by the Misfits?" she asked them, her voice losing its hard edge and turning into taunting, "besides the fact that they're good. No paper trail, and they don't want anyone looking too closely as much as I do. So when someone found out a certain little girl was looking into my codes, they came and told me. Just wonderful customer service, really."

"What happened to the girl?" he demanded, making his voice sound forcefully even in his compromised state.

"Oh now you're going to care about her welfare," she replied, "perhaps you should have thought about that before you let her get between us. What was so wrong when it was just the two of us."

There was tense pause, before he grunted out, "What are you going to do with me now, Raven? Kill me?" to her surprise he didn't sound overly concerned about it, which caused her to wondered how great was the Dark Knight's fear of death.

"Well there's a thought," she mulled over, pondering the thought over as if it was no big deal, a simple decision like what cereal to eat for breakfast, "it would save me a lot of headache and let's be honest with ourselves the police are much too slow to catch me," she stopped herself then and let out a sigh, "but I'm not an assassin," with that, she removed the hand covering his face and brushed it gingerly across his cheek, "besides it would be so boring for me without our game of bird and bat. So for now, Batman, I'll leave you with your life, but I'm warning you, I will not go to jail, so watch yourself."

The hand that had brushed over his cheek, suddenly pulled back and she punctured one of her claws into his neck. The world tilted for moment, before it all went black for Terry.

* * *

He was floating in inky darkness, out of the mist a raven head appeared looming over him, larger than life. The eyes glowed red and the beak was open in a cry, for what was unclear. On either side of the head, wings appeared and enclosed around, the feathers cradling him. He wasn't sure whether he felt safe or threaten by the close quarters, but it mattered before he knew it he was being lifted from the drug induced sleep by a voice.

"McGinnis? McGinnis can you hear me?" the old man was standing over his apprentice back in the Batcave.

Still stuck in the haze, Terry pulled himself up slowly to a sitting position, "What the hell happened," he muttered, holding his head, which felt like a hammer pounding against his head. His mask was a remove and there was a band-aid over a spot on his neck that stung pretty bad.

"She got the drop on you again," Bruce grumbled as he headed over to the super computer, "she used an unusual compound that knocked you out but dissolved into your blood stream, so I couldn't analyze it, she's crafty," he trailed off in a way that made his young worker feel as though there was something he leaving unsaid.

Terry swing his feet off the metal table gingerly pulled himself to his feet, giving his stomach a moment to settle, "Is there anything else you'd like to share," he prompted coldly as he leaned against the table, still unsteady on his feet.

"Did anything she said strike you?" Wayne finally asked, and Terry's silent confession answered him, "of course not. Maybe I'm reaching but she seems familiar to me...no it's ridiculous.." he paused again, letting the thoughts mill around in his head, "when the Raven said 'our game of bird and bat', I've heard that before..said to me, well something similar to that...when I was Batman," the past seemed to be enveloping the man, who hunch down into the chair in front of the computer.

"You're not making a whole lot of sense, Mr. Wayne," Terry replied as he straightened up, finding that his strength was slowly returning to him. He turned towards the computer screen just as Bruce removed a personal file that had been opened; Terry was just a second too late to get a good look at the picture.

A sigh escaped from the old man's lips, "No, Terry, I imagine I'm not."

* * *

_What did the old man mean? Who had been on the computer screen? Bruce would tell him if there was anything the old man knew, right?_ Terry shook his head, expelling the thoughts as he entered his high school the next morning. After taking probably a total of four steps inside, he caught sight of a blond head bobbing through the crowd toward him; when her face came into view, Terry's mouth dropped to the floor. Her lip was split open, her eye was black and she walked stiffly like she was hiding nastier injures under her clothing, basically it sort of looked like she had barely survived a bar fight.

"Follow me," Cyla growled under her breath, not bothering to look at him as she hurried off down a hallway. Terry blinked after her for a moment, still processing, before he hurried after her. Ahead of him he watched her figure hurry through the hallway and had a strange sense of déjà vu, which he couldn't place. Finally she picked an empty classroom, and he shut the door behind him.

"What the hell?" she demanded, the moment the door was shut, her eyes flashing with suddenly anger as her finger jabbed into his chest.

Terry put his hands up defensively, "Woh slow down, what are you talking about?" he asked, taken aback by her hostility.

"The thing you gave me," she explained hotly, her eyes nervously scanning the room as if she was afraid someone would over hear her, "what the fuck was it, Terry? What did you get me into?"

"I don't know," he answered, actually sort of being truth, he didn't really know what was on the chip, "I was just following instructions, but what happened to you? You look like shit."

She let out an unattractive snort, "Thanks a lot, jackass," she muttered, crossing her arms, "you can thank whatever you had me look into, who ever it really belongs to, which wouldn't be that Wayne guy, by the way, they're really well connected in the Misfits. I barely had the chip up-linked for five minutes before they came to take it."

"So it's lost?" he asked in despair, forgetting Cyla's beaten up state for a moment.

There was a glint of annoyance in her eyes but she didn't address it, "Most of it but I was able to save a couple of pieces upon to a back up," she handed him a computer chip, "now listen up McGinnis, I didn't steal this and put my ass on the line for you, no one messes with me. It's personal now."

After taking the chip in hand, Terry pulled her into a hug, "Thanks," he said to her, a smile on his face, "you're the best, Cyla."

"How about we call it even," she muttered, pushing him away. Going for the door, she turned around long enough to say, "As long as you don't ask for anymore favors, ever," and with that she disappeared out the door.

* * *

**AN: Sorry if this** **one feels kind of rushed, it's been a busy week and I wanted to get this published for y'all out there actually reading it because you're awesome.**


	5. Pieces of Truth

**Chapter 5: Pieces of Truth**

**AN: I'm so sorry that its taken so long to update, with graduation just around the corner I've been super, super busy. If any of you are still with me you're wonderful people and I'd love to give you a hug. **

* * *

Bruce looked over the files Terry had returned with cold, emotionless eyes, before leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh, "This is completely useless," he commented critically.

"Useless?" Terry's jaw dropped to the floor, looking over Wayne's shoulder and scanning what was on the screen for himself, "What do you mean useless? Come on there's got to be something helpful on that thing? Cyla put her ass on the line to get that to me and you're saying that there isn't a single bit of data?"

The old man's head suddenly snapped around and he glared at his apprentice with shock and anger, "You did what?" he roared, spinning his chair to face Terry more properly, "you're telling me you gave a gang member a computer chip that you found while you were Batman? Do you have any idea the possible ramification your actions have?"

"Hey," Terry stepped back, a little surprise by Bruce's reactions, "she took on just as many risks as I did, she's trustworthy. I promise."

"I don't believe that for a minute," Wayne growled back, slowly standing up and heading for the stairs, "she's a criminal and criminals can never be trusted."

Terry shoved his hands in his pocket, defeated, "Yeah well you don't have to worry about her anymore, I won't be asking for any favors for her, ever," he muttered, the old man looked back at Terry and for a moment the young man was pretty sure Wayne knew his reasoning. Then the old man turned his back and continued slowly up the staircase.

* * *

He really should've given up on the data, actually he should've given up on it when it was still a dented piece of metal and Max told him she couldn't decode it. Yet he couldn't give it up, he was a lot like Bruce in that way, he had a chance to find some answers and he took it, was that so awful? Actually, in this case it was.

Anger boiled up in him, bubbling to the surface, until he whipped around and punched a wall. Part of him wanted to hear the old man's voice in his ear of his cowl, yelling at him or assuring him, anything but it was silent. Bruce was out for the night, which was odd; he hadn't given Terry any answers and the apprentice knew better than to ask any questions.

* * *

A hunched over old man stumbled into a retirement home late at night, visiting hours had long since pasted but the staff didn't appear at all alarmed by his presence. The nurse at her desk looked up long enough to give the man a polite nod before bowing her head again. His cane continued to click on the tile, until he paused at a door slightly ajar and light spilling into the hallway.

"You there?" an old weak voice called out to him, still lively, still a little too high pitched but more hollow now than it was in the past.

His wrinkled, aged hand pushed the door opened, revealing that all the light was coming from a single lamp on the dresser. On one side of the dresser was the bed, other side was a rocking chair and upon it sat an old woman, with silvery hair and glassed over eyes, which were surrounded by scars.

"Good evening, Harley," the old man tipped his hat at his once foe, not that she could see the gesture; her eyesight long gone after a battle with madness when the JoKerr died, "how's retirement life treating you?"

A smile cracked on the jester's face as her head leaned back against the rocker, "Would do better if I had my puddin', but the food ain't too bad here, so who am I to complain. How 'bout you, Bats? Though I have heard through the grapevine that you're back in business."

"Don't you think I'm a little old for that?" he stood just inside her door, leaning heavily on his cane as he watched her closely. Her nails were painted black and red, her hands folded over her lap. At the moment her face was clean of any makeup yet he could still imagine the colors painted on her face.

She shrugged her shoulders and made a face, "What would I know, I'm as blind as a bat," her phrase caused her to pause then giggle, "blind as a bat, haha, it's sort of funny, huh? I might be old but I still gotta' few jokes."

A smile appeared on the old man's face, "Yeah Harley, you can still hold your own with the best of them," his words caused pride to swell in the expression of Harley, "but I have something serious to ask you. Has Selina spoken to you recently? Know where she is?"

Harley considered his words for a few moments, her mind not as sharp as it once had been, "You lose your cat, B Man?" she asked with an extra bit of sass, before she gave a real answer, "nope Catwoman and I weren't exactly the best of buddies. Now Pami, I could tell you stories about that girl. She would've been disappointed that you missed her funeral. Happened exactly two years ago to the day tomorrow."

"I know," he answered, placing a small potted rose on the table, "I brought this for you, a grandchild of one of Ivy's roses. She would've wanted you to have it, I don't feel right keeping it anymore."

Harley's hand delicately searched until it found the velvety petals of the rare flower, "You kept it all this time?" tears appeared at the corners of her eyes, as images of flowery costumed criminal played in her mind.

"Just for you," he replied, looking at her with new pity. It was easy to see her as a crazy, wild woman with a criminal streak, but she felt love and lose like a normal person.

"Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes and letting the tears spill over. Taking a deep breath, Harley let the moment pass, "how do you know Selina's even alive? I was starting to think it was just you and me left holding too tight to life, refusing to die like the stubborn jackasses we are."

"I met someone that reminded me just too much of her," he said, leaning on the doorknob for a little extra support, "I lost track of her about a decade back, I wasn't to upset about it, since she had been keeping clean, but now I'm pretty sure she gone dark side again."

"I'd tell you if I knew anything," Harley muttered, still distracted by the plant, "I owe you after this one."

"Alright Harley, I'm gonna' take your word on take for it," he said, tapping her shoulder before heading to the door, "but I'll be back to see you soon. I promise."

"I'll remember, Bats," the old jester smiled, her hand falling from the flower, "I don't have a lot of things left but my memories still running strong."

* * *

**AN: Well of course I had to feature my favorite character, so there just for you is a little Harley Quinn scene. I hope this was worth the wait, it probably wasn't but I tried. **


	6. A Bird Drops By

**Chapter Six: A Bird Drops By**

**AN: You guys are so wonderful for sticking with me on this story. I'm having so much fun writing it and I'm just glad other people seem to like it too. **

* * *

Terry had gone back the Batcave, a night of frustration was not helping the words of disappointment ringing in his ears from Bruce. Seriously how many times did he need to be reminded that the Raven could've unmasked him if she wanted to, there came a point where that criticism wasn't constructive anymore. Of course, the thought that the Raven had left him masked bothered him, if the roles were reverse he would have ripped that bird mask off her face without a second thought. Why had she left him alone, why had she given him that gift?

The thoughts swirled violently in his mind until it boiled to the surface and he slammed his hand against the keyboard. The sound echoed off the cave walls where it reached back to his ears but it did nothing to quiet his anger. There were still so many questions and this Raven character didn't seem to become clearer but instead more mysterious and illusive, wasn't she suppose to get easier to figure out instead of harder? That's what Bruce always made it seem like anyway.

He tried to start from the beginning, everything she ever said to him, every hint she dropped about her true identity, every clue she left, every misstep she took. Sitting in the chair Bruce normally occupied, Terry pondered every moment he could mustard from his mind, but the Raven, though not perfect, was good enough at covering her tracks that though he knew she was connected to the Misfits and she was late teens early twenty, he had no other clues about her identity.

There had to be something, something so little neither of them thought too closely about it but it meant something, meant everything. It would've just been a moment, a small one, but it must have happened, no one can hide everything, no one's that good, not himself or the Raven. There had to be a time when...

The alarm went off, the computer screen light up, warning Terry that there was an intruder in the house. His head whipped around to the screen, the last intruder in the house was Terry but the last intruder in the cave had been Inque, the thought flooded him with fear, but he had to be smart. Would it make more sense for Batman to show up in Wayne's house or Wayne's assistant?

* * *

A mansion, a gloomy building from the past, more of a museum than a house, but still beautiful. She wondered if the old man still even lived here, if he was even still alive, the place looked like one lived in it, all the furniture covered in sheets. Her fingers glided over a table free of a white sheet and imagined the feeling of the smooth wood as if she had no gloves on her hands.

All her childhood she had pretended she lived such a glamorous life like the one unfolding in front of her. She pieced together a fantasy from her grandmother's stories of garish balls and fancy dresses, of never going hungry and always being comfy. When the realities of her life pressed too hard, she told herself that one day a knight in shining armor would steal her away from her troubles or she'd grow up to be rich and famous and never have to worry about anything ever again. A sigh escaped her lips, dreams and ideals that had evaporated in short order.

Her footsteps abruptly halted as she faced the mantle of the fireplace, above it hung a larger than life a portrait of three people. It's age probably spanned an average lifespan, a half century at least. There were three people featured, a young boy and two adults who resembled him closely enough that she'd guess this was a family portrait. Her nose wrinkled, how cute. A thought popped into her head to shred the painting in its frame, but the way it was hung, with such care and honor, she knew it would be cruel to harm it. So she turned away and found herself staring a teenage boy straight in the eyes.

"Maybe I'm losing my touch if someone like _you_ can sneak up on me," she huffed, annoyed with herself that this had happened a third time, "so are you going to tell me your name, kid? Or am I going to have to guess?"

The boy stared at her coldly, "What are you doing in Mr. Wayne's house?" He asked, his wrist twitched and she noticed a baseball bat in his hand, it's adorable that he thought he could take her down with that toy.

"You call this a house, it's a fucking palace for its spoiled king," she grunted, taking a bold step towards the boy, "and because you called him Mr. Wayne your not family. Well not that you could be blood related, but I thought maybe you could be related to one of boys he adopted, Dick Grayson or little Tim. Then again you would've called the old man, Bruce. Yet you're close enough to the man that he trusts you alone in his home. So who are you?"

"I'd ask you the same question, since you're the one trespassing, but I've seen you on the news," he spoke as if he had no fear of her, cocky kid, "Raven."

Pursing her lips, the Raven placed a hand on her hip, "Well see how rude this is, starting me off at a disadvantage," she replied, "I mean I know I'm somewhat of a celebrity of crime, it's because I've got style, but that doesn't I mean I've forgotten to remember the little people," she leaned towards him, balancing her elbow on a small side table, "so little person, what's your name?"

"You better leave now, the cops are on way," he told her coldly, refusing to play along with her game.

The Raven stood up straight, her nose raising hotly in the air, "You're just no fun," she replied. Still she approached the kid, running her fingers down his arm until she reached his hand which held the baseball bat, "well don't worry, kid. I'm just here to drop off a little package, okay? I won't even steal anything."

Her free hand showed him a normal appearing envelope, which was address to Bruce Wayne. The guy stared at it for a moment, it clearly wasn't what he had expected, "What's that?" He questioned.

"Oh I'm sorry, are you blind?" The Raven joked cruelly, "my bad. This is a letter, dear. It's not for you, if you're wondering."

She dropped both the letter and his hand, before heading calmly to the front door; she knew just as well as he did that there were no cops showing up that night. For a moment he just let her walk away, but once he regained his senses, he lurked after the costumed burglar, "Wait," he called, and to his surprise she turned around, "who are you? Under that mask, I mean."

Her body language seemed to soften, "No one. The mask is a part of me, sometimes it's like the mask is my real face and what's under it is simply a disguise," a small laugh escaped her lips when she paused, before she shrugged her shoulders, "but that probably doesn't make even a little bit of sense to you."

She stared at him for a moment, and then continued to walk straight out of the Wayne mansion. Behind her a wide eyed teenager stood struck with how much those words struck him to the core.

* * *

"You just let her go, let her walk right out the front door," Bruce demanded after he returned from what appeared to be an exhausting evening, "just like that?"

Terry hung his head, questioning himself just as much as the old man was, "I know, I know, but she didn't steal anything and I sort of owed her. I can't owe someone like her, I had to settle the score," he tried to justify his actions, knowing that it was falling on deaf ears.

Cupping his face in his hand, Bruce tried to cool his raising irritation, "Well, we can't changed the past," he grumbled, "lets just see if there's anything about this criminal that can be learned from this piece of paper," the old man was only reading for a few seconds before his face turned pale and he rushed to fold it back up.

"What?" Terry asked as he leaned forwarded, his interest peaked by Wayne's reaction, "what is it? What did it say?"

Quickly, Bruce stumbled to his feet and hobbled up the stairs on his weak leg, "It's useless," he growled, his voice more forceful than usual, "just let it go, Terry. Let. It. Go."

It was clear by the old man's voice that what he said was a bold face lied, there was something in the letter, something big and important, something that spooked Bruce. Terry stood stone still for a second time that night, unsure of what to do, until he got his hands on that piece of paper.

* * *

**AN: Oh no, a bit of a cliffhanger, too bad you'll just have to wait. Anyway, another chapter down and the plot thickens. I promise some fun interactions between Batman and Raven next chapters. Thanks so much for sticking with me and please don't hesitate to send me feedback, it's always appreciated. **


	7. Dangerous Information

**Chapter Seven: Dangerous Information**

**AN: I need to thank highlander348 for all the great help with the letter, it wouldn't be as well thought out without all the awesome insight I received. So, just all my love goes to highlander348 for being so wonderful. **

* * *

The next day, Terry was still reeling from the old man's reaction to the Raven's little present. A sinking feeling that was only made worse from the extra unusual silence when he walked into the mansion, the sound going from the normal quiet to eerie silence, "Wayne?" he called as he walked through the hall, but the only response he received was a half hearted growl from Ace when he passed the unfriendly mutt.

He entered the Batcave still feeling uneasy, yet there was no Bruce there either, just a hint of his presence in a half eaten dinner plate left laying on a the table next to the computer. Part of Terry wanted to find the old man but he didn't have any words to say to his mentor, so instead he sat down on the computer. After staring at the computer screen for a few heartbeats, Terry decided to look through the files on the Raven to try to figure her out more.

Just a few minutes in, Terry noticed two files had been recently linked, but when he tried to access the linked file it he found it lose and even the password Wayne gave him didn't do the trick. What was Wayne hiding from him? It was just two days ago he had checked the Raven files and the link hadn't been there then; so he had to think what had changed?

It was just a heartbeat later, Terry knew his answer, the letter. It was the only thing that had changed, something in that letter had given Bruce another piece of the puzzle, one he hadn't shared with Terry. The kid's heart sank to the floor, what was it that the old man didn't want to share with his apprentice? The question only made him want to see the letter more, it burrowed in his mind and he itched to get his hands on that critical piece of paper.

* * *

It took three nights, three nights of searching, ducking and trying to deceive Gotham's greatest detective before Terry was able to snatch the letter from under Bruce's nose. The handwriting was shaky, there were places where he could feel the pen had pressed to hard, and spots where the ink had pressed through when the writer paused too long, yet the letters were still elegant.

_My Dearest Love,_

_Surprise, my dear, just like you, I'm stubbornly holding onto life, and though I'm sure you thought you had heard the last of me years ago when I left Gotham in disgrace, I have to disrupt your life just one more time. I wish I could do this face to face, play one more game of cat and bat, but age, as I'm sure you know, is unforgiving and my body doesn't let me do the things I used to, so this letter is the closest version to a face to face I can manage. I probably should've written this to you awhile ago, but admitting some mistakes I've made is difficult but now that I've accepted that there are many more years behind me than there are in front of me, I realize the necessity of telling the truth, even if it's hard._

_You know I loved my time as Catwoman, but I wonder what it would've been like if I had hung up the tights after I was arrested. Would you have made good on all your promises, Bruce? Would you have always protected me from myself, Batman? It's hard to say the answer and I'll never know for sure. Although it is rather pathetic that the only two people that ever believed in me, who remembered the good I did instead of just seeing the bad, were actually just the same person, you, my dear. I'd find it hard to believe if you didn't realize I've known who's been under that cowl for a long while now, then again you always did have a blind spot for me or maybe I'm just assuming too much. I suppose I should reassure you that I haven't told a living soul your secret, besides who would I tell?_

_Regardless, my memories of you and I are the only ones from my time in Gotham that I'm fond of. I read somewhere, "Every day, the future looks a little bit darker. But the past... even the grimy parts of it... keep on getting brighter." This quotation is the best way I can think of to explain to you the way I was thinking when I did what I did, my greatest regret. This brings us to the real reason I wrote to you, and you know I have my share of regrets, more than I care to admit, but the path I put my granddaughter on is the one that hangs heaviest on my soul, you may know her better as the Raven. I guess dressing up in tight clothing and robbing the fat cats of Gotham just runs in the family. Anyway, __I loved being Catwoman, I can't deny that, it was like a drug, an addiction and I should've wanted more for my granddaughter. I was just so angry that I had fallen so far, that my city had turned it's back on me that I channeled my bitterness into my granddaughter. But don't go thinking she's all bad, she tried to ignore me, she was a great athlete and she has a brilliant mind yet a__ll it took was one brush with the law, one mark on her record and Gotham did to her just as it did to me, turned her away like garbage._

_That's when my stories meant something to her and I thought maybe this was a good thing, better than her getting in deep with all those people from her neighborhood. At least that's the excuse I used to convince myself that I hadn't failed her. Look, I basically raised my granddaughter and I care about her more than anything else in this world, which is why I'm struggling so much even as I write this letter. I've lost count of how many attempts I've made to write this to you, in some I've told you who the Raven was and in others I haven't, I don't know which one this letter will be or this is even the one that I'll send to you all I know is that I was wrong to create the Raven. I planted all these seeds in my granddaughter's head but everything I planted turned out to be weeds._

_If you're still the great detective you use to be you'll be able to figure out who the Raven is even if I don't tell you, if I don't betray her,____ and if you do catch her promise me that you'll remember what I always tried to teach you, the world isn't black and white, Bruce, if only it were that simple, no the world is different shades of grey. She's not all bad. Just p__lease, my Cape Crusader, save my granddaughter, I can't believe she's beyond saving the way I was. Whoever the new Batman is I hope he's at least as good as you were, he has to be good enough to save her. She can't turn out like me, it's my only wish. Save her._

_Love,_

_Selina Kyle._

* * *

Well that was a lot to take in, Terry's mind was still racing. It was always a lot of information about the Raven, it couldn't be that hard to track down a few birth certificates and trace the Raven through Selina Kyle. Only what would stop the Raven from going after him or Bruce? Selina said she never told anyone Bruce was Batman but if the Raven read the letter than she would know the truth. It was time to find the Raven.

Actually she wasn't hard to find at all. After a dozen or so minutes of searching the city he found her lounging on a rooftop. It was obvious that she had seen him coming, but she didn't seemed concerned, she didn't even bother to get up, that meant she had to know the truth, right? She would be more uneasy to see him if she still didn't know his identity, right?

"Batman," she said calmly, staying seated on the ledge when he was face to face with her, "I figured you come to find me eventually, but to be honest I thought it'd take you longer to piece it all together."

"What was there to piece together, Raven?" Terry asking, taking a few steps towards the Raven, studying her closely, "it was made pretty clear who's secrets was exposed and secrets are a necessity in our business."

"Yeah," she sighed, her hand came up to cover her mask as her head bowed, "I suppose there's no reason hiding behind the mask anymore then, huh Bats?" There was hollow, mournful sound in her voice that he had never heard before, "you know, it was fun while it lasted, even all the ups and downs, it's sort sad to know it's over."

Terry looked down, as shamed filled him by witnessing her weak instead of confident and proud, "What do we now, Raven? You hold the cards," he asked, "because this changes things, hell this changes everything."

"I know," she muttered before something clicked and she jumped to her feet more shocked now than worried, "wait. What? How is this in my hands?" It was clear that his words had started wheels turning in her head because they weren't on the same page.

"But..." Terry was at lose, this wasn't turning out at all how he thought this would go, in fact he was afraid of the conversation getting away from him, "what did you think was going on?"

The Raven was barely listening to him as she seemed to pulled into her own head, "So you don't know who I am?" she mumbled, her excitement returning, "she did turn me in? I'm still safe, it's not over," a huge weight seemed to be lifted and Terry would be lying if he didn't admit that he was relieved as well.

Once everything clicked and Raven's head snapped in Terry's direction and she rushed over to him at a surprising speed. Before he knew it, she was toe to toe with him and rising up on her tiptoes,"Remember Batman," she whispered in his ear and for the first time when her finger curled around his neck, pulling him closer, he noticed they were not clawed, "I left you masked so you leave mine alone now," she pulled away from to look him in the eyes, her hand now touching his cheek lightly, "trust me, it's better this way. We were two people who were always meant to be anonymous."

As she started to walk away from him, Terry hurried to grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks, "You know as long as you keep braking the law I can't let you go, it's just how it works," he told her sternly. He was surprised that she didn't pull away sharply the way that she had in the past, instead she had turned back around.

"I sort of figured," she shrugged, and even with his grip holding her tight she appeared relaxed, "unfortunately your whole good guy attitude is part of you're charm. Regardless, tonight I just came to talk, so how about we save the enemy game for tomorrow? I mean after-"

A police floodlight turning on the Raven stopped her mid sentence, for a moment the shock rooted her still expect for her hands, which Terry felt they slight tremble from. In that half second of thought she looked up at him, her eyes full of accusation as if he had called the cops. Then she bolted, turned away from both him and the suddenly appeared police, hurrying faster than he thought was possible. He followed his first instinct, which was lunging forward to grab hold of her but only was able to grip the hood behind her head. That didn't stop her, she kept running, and the hood ripped off, a wave of blonde tumbled out, revealing another one of Raven's secrets.

* * *

Terry was so mad when he got back to the Batcave that the sides of his vision was tinted red, and he hurried towards Bruce like a raging bull. Discarding his mask on the table, Terry shouted, "What the hell was that, Wayne?" it was a demand and an accusation.

The old man didn't even bother looking up, he just continued to calmly work away at his computer, "You're going to have to be more specific if you want a proper answer, kid," he answered coldly.

"Why'd you involve Gordon? I had the Raven situation under control, I didn't need the police to mess everything up," Terry clarified impatiently, his anger still plain on his face and irritation only growing.

"Hey you watch your mouth, McGinnis," Bruce growled, pointing his cane at his young apprentice as a warning, "Commissioner Gordon is a great officer and she certainly doesn't have to answer to _you_," after a moment of silence, he lowered his cane and turned back away, "but I did call her so she could arrest the Raven, because clearly you won't."

"Who says I won't?" Terry huffed, offended by the idea that he would want a criminal to go free, hadn't he worked hard to try to bring the Raven in, worked a ton of long hours, worked into the twilight hours? He gave up sleep, he gave up his friends, he gave up his girlfriend, what more proof did the old man want?

Bruce glanced up, rising an eyebrow as if to question Terry's need even to ask, "Clearly you've grown a little too attached to our masked criminal," he pointed out coldly, "so I figured I'd have to get Gordon to take her down."

Terry stormed out but he didn't say anything, not a word to defend himself against those accusation and that was the terrible thing. There wasn't a single phrase he could string together that would make what Bruce was saying sound better, why? Because what Wayne was saying was terribly true.

* * *

**AN: Who knows where the quotation's from? (_"Every day, the future looks a little bit darker. But the past... even the grimy parts of it... keep on getting brighter."_)If you do you're the coolest kid in the world, and the first person to tell me where it's from can ask me any question about the story and I promise to answer it, no matter what it is.**


	8. To No End

**Chapter Eight: To No End**

**AN: Phew, I finally finished it, I made the week mark though, just like I promised, barely I know, but hey, close enough. I'm just really excited that it seems like a good amount of people like this, I'm also afraid I'm going to post something and no reads it, so thanks so much friends for making that not the case. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

Bruce sat as his kitchen table for his normal breakfast routine, oatmeal and orange juice eaten exactly at seven fifteen in the morning as he read his morning paper. Well actually printed newspaper had stopped years ago, so now it was just written out news on his tablet, with the letters an extra size bigger so he could read it more easily, not that he'd ever attempt that to another living soul. He scrolled through the news with mild disinterest until a certain article caught his eyes. For a few moments he scanned the content of the article, before he put down the tablet in disgust and left the room irritated. The screen was still light up with the story open:

_**The Police Nearly Catch the Bird Burglar**_

_For months now Gotham police have been on high alert trying to catch the latest costumed criminal running lose on the streets, one who has been cunning enough to avoid capture and cover her tracks. Armed with eye witness reports of this roof jumping thief several reporters have boldly labeled this woman as the Raven, due to her flashy costume and elaborate bird mask. It seems as if Gotham's other masked criminal, Batman, now has some competition. _

_Even with all the attention these robberies have received and the force of the Gotham police department it's been an uphill battle to bring this thief to justice. Luckily last night the GPD was handed the brake they had been hoping for. An anonymous tip was able to give the police an idea of the location of the criminal and though she managed to once again get away an inside source has confirmed that valuable evidence was collected. Due to the fact that all the robberies are still open and ongoing investigations, the police refuse to give an official comment, but unconfirmed sources have said that a DNA sample was taken from the scene. _

_Though the preferred outcome of actually catching the Raven was not reached, this was a little victory the people of Gotham should celebrate. The walls are finally closing in around this thieving bird and it won't be long before she'll pay for her crimes. So citizens cross your fingers and toes and hope for a match, so that finally the __Raven's thieving frenzy may come to a swift end and then all of Gotham can sleep a little more soundly with the knowledge that their safes are safe._

"Hey Mr. Wayne," Terry called as he entered the Batcave that evening, "did you see that stupid little bit on the news about the Raven? What a bunch of shit, huh?"

Bruce didn't answer right away, but his apprentice didn't seem to be finished with his mini-rant anyway, "I mean I was there, there's no way they have a DNA sample, whoever their source is, if they even have one, is just pulling this crap out if his ass."

"Ready to get to work, Terry?" Bruce asked coldly, turning away from the boy without ever commenting on the article.

* * *

Bruce was rubbing his eyes as he came up from the Batcave one night, Terry had gone home and the search for the Raven's true identity was still fruitless. It had been a long night, and when his phone alerted him of an intruder it was about to get longer. When he entered the den she was sitting a couch still covered with a white sheet; when she heard his entrance, she looked up.

"Are you going to make a habit of braking into my home?" He asked coldly, his eyes watching her shrewdly, ready for her to make a threatening move.

She shrugged her shoulders careless as her fingers danced on the smooth wood of his side table, "I'm not sure," she replied, almost bored, obviously not worried about what he would do, "are you going to be making a habit of sharing all my presents with Batman?"

"He came to me, I didn't know I was suppose to keep it a secret," Bruce answered, leaning heavily on his cane to support his aching legs, "do you have something to hide?"

A cold glare crossed Raven's face, "Ha ha ha, very funny old man," she mocked him, anger in her voice, she wasn't very fond of his teasing, "obviously I have the lion's share of things I'd rather no one knew about, but you got the letter, so you know."

"Is that why you're here?" he asked curiously, his cane trembled from the effort of standing, "to talk about your grandmother's letter?"

The strained on Bruce didn't go unnoticed by the young woman, "Here," she patted the chair across from her, "just sit down, okay? I'm a thief, not a monster, I won't attack you," he stared at her for several minutes before actually listening. That seemed to relax both of them, "Yeah," Raven went back to answer Bruce's question, "I guess I'm just a little offended that she sent a letter to you and not to me, I'm family after all."

"You really don't know what the letter says, do you?" Bruce leaned forward, surprised that what she had told Terry was actually the truth, which was confirmed when she nodded her head, "why didn't you just read it? Weren't you even a little curious?"

The Raven let out a short, humorless laugh, "Was I curious? I was dying to open the letter, I wanted to know what was so important that I had to hand deliver it to you, but I guess I'm just a good little foot soldier, the boss says jump and I don't even have to ask how high anymore, I just know," she let out a heavy sigh, her fingers pressing on her forehead, "but you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Mr. Wayne? You've been top dog since you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth."

"I have an idea," he replied, with an edge of annoyance in his voice for the way she was speaking to him, "you know, you should learn to show an ounce respect for your elders, little girl," he growled back at her, irritated to be judge by a person who had done such wrong in her short lifespan, when he had dedicated his life, sacrificed everything, how dare she speak to him in such a manner.

"I never understood that expression, have respect for one's elders, what does how many years you've clocked in have anything to do with how people treat you," she didn't appear fazed by his anger, instead she seemed to be expecting it, "why should I respect you, Mr. Wayne? I figure respect should be earned. I'm not some punk kid off the street, so shove that 'little girl' crap up your ass. I've gone through my fair share of hard times and I'm a congressman compared to what I could've been. So excuse me if respecting random old man I don't know just isn't my style."

To her surprise, he didn't explode, didn't start to yell at her, instead the old man laughed, "You," he pointed at her still chuckling, "you remind me so much of your grandmother, her attitude, her questioning. It's true, she raised up to be just like her."

His words seemed to hit a sour note with her, "I'm not my grandmother, look the woman raised me and I love her, but I'm not her, I'm different," she was driving the point home not only to him but to herself to, struggling to stay away from life she felt she was destined to fall into.

"How?" Bruce questioned, "you take from people who are well off, just like she did and you clearly enjoy. Face it, kid, you are your grandmother. Just a girl in a costume searching for a rush."

The Raven jumped to her feet, "I'm not some adrenaline junky, you hear me! You think I'm out stealing for kicks? I can tell you this I won't bother if I lived in a mansion like this," she motioned to all around them, "Do you think I want to go to jail? I take the risk out of necessity," she turned her back on him and took several slow breaths, trying to get a hold of herself before she really lost her temper. Then she rounded back to the old man, facing him once more, but she was eerily calm now, "Besides, if you thought so little of her, why did she always tell me you cared so much about her?"

There was no good answer for her, in fact Bruce was slightly taken aback by the question, "I did care for Selina, but never for Catwoman," he finally decided to say, but the answer didn't feel good enough for him either.

"Selina was Catwoman, there is no separating them," the Raven explained to him, someone she had no idea understood what she was saying all too well, "once she put on the costume there was no going back, not for her or anyone else who's ever done it for that matter. I mean look how long Batman survived, hell he's gone on so long that there's a second one now. It's not the adrenaline that's a drug, it's the mask, it sucks you in and it's hard to take off, even when real life comes knocking."

"You sound as if it's got you too," Bruce commented.

The Raven shrugged, as she went over and opened one of the glass doors that led to the patio, listening to it creek from age; she took a moment to breath in the cool outside air, "Sometimes I think I'm in control, that when it's all over I'll be able to just hang up my tights and go on with my life, but then I think about all the people that couldn't do it, Catwoman, Batman, Poison Ivy, Joker, Two Face," she rattled off the list as if it had been stored in her head for quite some time, "and I wonder what makes me different, well besides the fact that unlike most of them I don't murder people."

"Turn yourself in," Bruce suggested coldly, "that would make you different."

"That would make me dead," the Raven snorted before walking out the door without even saying goodbye.

* * *

"So she was in the house?" Terry asked, his mouth hanging open in disbelief as he stared at his mentor in shock the following night.

Wayne didn't seem to be as excited as his apprentice about recapping the series of events, "Yes," he answered shortly, still typing away at the computer, research had been slow, it should've been easy to find a few birth records but it seemed that Selina Kyle had given the famous detective the slip many years before he thought she had and uncovering the records was proving to be a challenge.

"And you didn't think to call for my help? Or at least call the police?" Terry continued to badger Bruce, testing the old man's patience, "I mean I thought you trust Gordon."

"I do trust Gordon, somewhat," he muttered, "but no, I didn't call for help," it appeared that Selina Kyle for eleven years existed on paper only, having a rented apartment listed and a job, but the apartment was an empty lot and the company wasn't real, and when Selina resurfaced years later enough time had elapsed that any child she may have had was out of school and not on any files linked to Selina. Bruce was slowly going through trying to find any point where custody was given to Selina for her granddaughter in Gotham's court, since both the letter and Raven said Selina had raised her, but so far that was fruitless.

"Did you even try to stop her?" Terry questioned, the only one that he had been really itching to ask.

"There wasn't an opportunity," Bruce snapped, but even Terry knew that was a bold face lie. Still he let it go and went on patrol instead of push his mentor even farther.

With totally silence Bruce was sure he would be able to find those lost years of Selina Kyle's but however she had gone underground she had covered her tracks well. For eleven years, she was nothing but a ghost, no credit, no purchases, no job history, no nothing, and the worst part was that sometime she must have had her child, or children for all Bruce knew, but he couldn't find a spread of them anywhere, no other living or dead person with the last name Kyle was even closely related Selina. What was suppose to be a great lead was drying up in short order. Bruce threw a mug he had been holding against a wall, listening to it shattered into a hundred pieces, the part falling to the ground like, and he tried to conjure up a clue that was actually useful.

* * *

**AN: Okay so I know there hasn't been a ton of action lately, but I promise next one will be filled with Batman and Raven going at each, if you think the Raven was pissed in chapter 4 (Knock Out Round), think again. That was the tip of the iceberg, now she's angry and feels betrayed by Batman for involving the cops, but there's something else that sends her over the edge. Next chapters a big one, I'm so excited.**


	9. One Solved

**Chapter 9: One Solved**

**AN: I'm sorry, I know I promised action and there is action but I couldn't stop myself from writing a little soul searching moment first, so I hope you like it. Also I'd like to thank all of my wonderful reviewers that have said such nice things to about my story, I never thought I'd get such positive feedback and even if I receive some negative comments I'm just flattered that people took the time to actually write to me, so thank you. **

* * *

It was quiet, not silent, cities could never be silent, but in the early pre-dawn hours of the morning a certain quiet had fallen over at least the area surrounding one building, not even the usual sound of violent crime on the street. The streetlight was burned out, meaning the harshest of the many lights was not bothering her; her face was illuminated by neon light from the building across the street, only half the letters still working, as she stared out the grimy window. It didn't take long for her to tire of the view, it was depressing, a panorama of filth and poverty, so she drew the thick curtains together, a vial between her and that world she pretended she didn't belong to.

There wasn't a single light on to chase away the darkness in the cramped room, but she didn't hesitate as she walked across it to a small side table where her other identity laid peacefully. On the outside, as her finger glided carefully over the black surface, she appeared completely calm, but her mind was a churning storm as a war raged one. A line had been crossed, she had been willing to leave well enough alone, some secrets were better left masked, but her hand had been forced, the choice was made without her, now it was a question of pure survival, and if there was one thing she was good at was keeping her head above water, even if it was just barely.

Her fingers closed around her beautiful mask and she couldn't stop herself from wondering, was it all worth it? Shaking the doubt from her mind, she reminded herself of the view she had just witness, it wasn't like she had a lot of choices, there weren't any better choices for her. Now she had two choices, let a part of herself fade away while her secrets were still her own or gain the leverage she needed to save herself. A week ago she would've considered it unethical to attempt to unmask a follow costumed, but he had thrown the unspoken rulebook in her face when he involved the cops. She had accepted that the police were after her and that Batman was after her but not together, they were suppose to face each on even ground. He had betrayed her. It was unbelievable, this silly and childish fantasy she built in her head, she had imagined that there was a part of him, just a small part, that had, against his better judgment, developed some sort of affection for her. It was ridiculous for her to lose her professionalism in such way, it was suppose to be just a game, yet she had allowed herself to open up for someone who was her enemy. How foolish.

She grabbed the nearest solid object, a small jewelry box, and threw it across the room, causing the box to pop open. Her back was already turned when she heard the clank of metal, that was odd, she was sure that box was empty. The memory of how she received the box played in her mind; she was helping her grandmother move, it was one of the hardest moves they had gone through, and when she went to put that little box away with the other jewelry her grandmother had snatched it from her hand. I can't take this, her grandmother told her, before handing her the box, can you just keep it for me. She had, just like she was asked, but she never understood why it was so important, it was just an empty box with the fluffy cushion still left in it. But she had been wrong.

Leaning over, she picked up the box and it's contents, a cat pendant on a gold chain with a note attached:

_Lovely Catwoman,_

_I've heard on good authority that you're hanging up the tights forever, and I wanted to offer my congratulations. I'm aware it's not like me to get sentimental, but as you once said you spice my otherwise boring life, and I'd be lying if I told you that was the farthest thing from the truth, you definitely had a style all your own. So I thought I'd give you this as a token of our time together._

_Batman_

The handwriting, there was something about that handwriting that was eerily similar to something she had seen before. In fact she was sure she knew where it was. Her heart was racing in her chest, the puzzle pieces were falling straight into her hands and she could see the picture it would reveal; in the closet were dozens of shoeboxes, which she rifled through until she found what she was looking for. Originally she had never given much thought to the strange things her grandmother had insisted she take but now it all made sense.

A box full of letters, seconds ago they had been meaningless, but now she looked at them in a new light. In the words were the truth, how could she have been so stupid? As she put the last piece of the puzzle together her eyes grew wide, she knew who Batman was, she knew everything.

* * *

"There's a new drug circling around Gotham, they call it Vertigo, it originates from Starling City, but it's been dormant since my time, well until now," Bruce told his young apprentice as they prepared for night ahead, "it wasn't good before but my sources say it's gotten worse, this isn't something we want on our streets."

Terry rolled his eyes, "Can't you just say Gordon, we both know she's your source," he pointed out, causing him to get a cold glare, "well it's true."

"Well a shell company I've been following suddenly has a storage container coming into Gotham's docks," the old man explained, "I'm positive that this is a shipment of Vertigo, now I want you to stop it from getting out on streets. You think you can handle that, McGinnis?"

"In my sleep, Wayne," Terry replied in his usual cocky attitude as he grabbed the batsuit out of his backpack and headed out into the night.

He felt good tonight, it felt like luck was on his side, Terry wasn't sure what it was but he felt good, really good. He flew through to air to the docks, his red gliders out behind his head, as he expertly dodged buildings. He was rushing closely over a rooftop when a body collided with him and as he crashed to the ground his head bounced painful off the rooftop and his vision blurred. Blinking his eyes, Terry was grateful when everything came back into focus, and when he did his check of all his fingers, toes, arms and legs he was glad he had the appropriate number and feeling in all of them.

Then, after all was account for, he took stock in his surrounding, he was laying on his back, looking up at the starless sky, and as he looked around he saw exactly what, or really who, ran into him was just getting to her feet a few yards away from him, the Raven. She was hurrying over to him as fast as she could and once she made it there she placed the heel of her shoe on his throat.

"You know I was actually having fun," she told him coldly, her voice hollow with anger, "I thought this mask would just be a means to an end but something changed, I don't know what but I changed. And I thought we had a good thing going here, a fun little game, but then you went and broke the rules. I thought you were suppose to be the big, bad Batman, why do you need the police to help you all the sudden?"

Her heel, though pushing on his throat, had purposely left enough slack for him to be able to speak, "I didn't make you become a criminal, Raven, life's full of choices," he growled back at her, "those were just the consequences of your actions."

A laughed escaped her lips, "God, I can't believe I didn't see it before, I mean it was just staring me in the face, and now that I know it just seems so fucking clear that I feel like such an idiot."

Terry's brow furrowed, "You're not making any sense," he told her, and though he was really curious about the answer, he saw her relax just before she spoke and he knew he had his chance. Knocking her foot away, he sprung to his feet, swinging one leg out to knock her to her knees. He managed to get behind her and pin her hands behind her back, "You would've made one hell of a Batgirl," he muttered her as he took out his handcuffs.

"Flying rats just isn't my style, Batboy," she gritted her teeth, before rolling her body forward with enough force to pull herself free of his grip, "now if you wanna' fight, let's fight."

"I don't want to fight you," he said, and she could tell he was being genuine., which was surprising and well kind of sweet, if she was being honest with herself.

"Well then this should be over quick," she commented coldly, just before she lunged at him, claws extended. He was able to dodge her first assault, but she landed gracefully on the balls of her feet before going after him again. This time her claws connected with the side of his face, making four nasty slashes in his suit, only just shallow enough to leave his skin unharmed. It was his turn to go after her, he tried the same lunge at her to tackle her to the ground, but if it didn't work for her, it certainly won't work for him. He managed to stay on his feet, but was unstable enough that when she kicked him he crumpled to the ground.

Sitting on him, the Raven pinned him as expertly to the ground as she had once before, "Now, now Bats, this is familiar," she grinned at him, one extending up into her eyes, "only this time, I know something you don't know."

He was getting a little tired of her always seeming to come out on top, literally sometimes, "What?" he grumbled, a sore loser to being a pawn in her game.

Brushing her fingertips across his cheek as she leaned forward, whispering in his ear, "I know who are," she paused, for moment before revealing the ace up her sleeve, "McGinnis."

His struggles became more feverish and though his anger blocked an actually sentence, he did have several choice words for her, more than a few 'fuck you's and 'bitch', they seemed to be a favorite. She just shook her head, "You know I really didn't want to do this to you again, but if you're going to be so unreasonable," she trailed off, raising her clawed hand.

It was then Terry knew what she was about to do, "Raven no!" He shouted but he was too late, her hand had already swiftly come down and pricked his neck. Moments later everything went dark.

* * *

One down, one to go. As much as she loved roof jumping it would just take too long to get to the outskirts of town where his mansion lay tucked in the woods. So she made her way down to the street, where Jokerz were circling a poor group of teens; she whistled to them, "Hey Jokerz," she called, hand on her hip, "I got something for you, trust me, you'll be _dying_ to hear this."

The Jokerz turned around and their jaws dropped, her suit wasn't _that_ tight, was it? Well maybe it was. It didn't seem that they needed any farther explanations, her invitation and looks were enough, besides Jokerz liked freaky so the mask probably only helped her. One of the guys reached for her, "Well come here, baby, and you can whisper it in my ear," but just before his arms encircled her she leaped up, pushing off his wrists to propel herself higher over his head as she flipped over in the air. Then she used the force to pull him to the ground, while staying on her feet.

One recovered from shock before the others and lunged at her next, he was an idiot, she placed a swift kick to the crotch and as he went down she pushed heel of her hand into his nose, hearing it crack as it broke. All that was left was a girl and a scrawny boy, just a kid really; the girl looked like she was ready to take up the mantle and fight the Raven, but the boy tugged on her sleeve, a wide eyed, frightened stare on his face, and they both bolted.

After they were gone, she hurried through the pockets of the one with the broken nose, who was still moaning, "What was it?" he managed to ask her, and when she didn't answer right away, he clarified, "what were you going to tell us? I mean before Benjy tried to jump you."

The Raven snorted, man this guy was thick, "I was going to say, I'm gonna kick your ass and steal your bike," she smiled as her fingers closed around his keys and then she jumped onto his bright red motorcycle, waving goodbye.

A bike was much faster, and man was it fun, she had to get one of these. She trailed up to the Wayne mansion until she came to the gate, "Let me in," she barked into the intercom, "I know you were listening in to what I said to your little puppet. Come on Wayne, we need to talk," it only took a few seconds the gates to squeak open.

"Really," the Raven said as she walked proudly into the mansion, a large grin on her face, though it was hidden by her mask, "I should've seen, you as Batman, it just fit, all the puzzle pieces, I'm ashamed of myself, honestly."

"What do you want?" he growled, his words cut into her like a knife, white hot anger that still managed to be cold.

The Raven walked slowly around the room, playing with him like a cat with a mouse, "I want you to stop digging up who I am, it'll take you a long time, trust me I know how buried it all is. Hell most people would never unearth it, then again you're better than most, so leave me alone, or I'll tell everyone who you and your little apprentice really are. Deal?"

"I don't make deals with the devil," he answered her, "so take that deal and shove it up your-" he suddenly stopped talking and pushed his hand to his ear, "Terry? Terry?!" he shouted out of the blue.

The Raven's easygoing nature suddenly cracked, "What? What's wrong?" even distracted Bruce took a moment to look at her strangely, wondering why she cared, "look I know you don't trust me but I knocked the guy out, anything that happens to him is now my head, and whatever I am, I'm not a murderer."

For a few heartbeats, the old man considered it, Terry was in trouble and he would be useless to help, "Try anything and I'll have my dog kill you," he muttered, opening a clock, which revealed a long stairway, "and you play by my rules. Starting with this, you don't go out as the Raven."

She followed him, for an old guy he could certainly move, "Look, I'm not putting on that ridiculous Batgirl suit if that's what you're asking," she replied evenly, "how 'bout a compromise, give me an old robin mask and a black sweatshirt, I won't be the Raven but I won't a bat either."

"Fine," he decided, barely satisfied with the result, "bottom drawer to the right and top middle drawer," he pointed to a cabinet next to the displays with the suits. Once she got her stuff, she took a moment to stare at the different Batsuits, "well come on, if it all goes well maybe I'll give you a little history lesson."

A half, barely audible laugh escaped her lips at the thought of them exchanging stories like old friends. Still she did was she was told, swapping her own mask for the smaller, simple one. Then she shrugged on the sweatshirt, pulling the hood up, tucking her blonde ponytail in it. She was ready so she walked up to Bruce, "Well, give me the scoop, what do I need to do?"

"This is the last feed I got from the suit," Wayne told her, playing the video, and the two watched as a black form took Terry's limp body and hurried away with it, "She's called Inque, before tonight I would've told you kidnapping just wasn't her thing, but it seems she's made an exception. Now up until three seconds ago I had a steady trace on the suit but it just cut out. This is the last image I got."

She leaned in as the picture came up on the screen, "That's the docks," she said, "I think I know where he is," she didn't give Bruce a chance to question her before she rushed out of the cave and onto her stolen bike.

* * *

Terry swam in and out of consciousness, where he could hear people talking around him, "Let's just kill him now," a familiar female voice growled, "let him live and he'll escape, trust me he's crafty. Even when he's drugged."

"Look the boss said wait," another voice, one Terry had never heard before, chimed in, "I wondered how he got drugged though in the first place, if it wasn't you."

"Batman's got plenty of enemies, one of them did it," the woman answered.

Terry slipped away again, waking in time to hear, "Come on, let me just unmask him," it was the female voice again, she sounded bit more jumpy, "what's your boss got against that, I caught him."

"And you've been paid very well for your services," the man answered, "but Boss says nobody touches the bat 'til he gives the say so, and he didn't say so."

"Look, I've been chasing this guy for a long time, I deserve to know who he is," she spat back at him.

"Then you should've done it on someone else's dime."

* * *

She was rounding the docks when her phone rang, the burner phone she bought for the contacts she'd made when she was wearing the mask, the caller ID made her face go white: Boss. Her answered the phone with shaking hands, "You rang?" she stated, trying to keep her voice even.

_"I have a present for you,"_ he answered, his voice sending a chill down her spine.

"Oh," she replied as if she was surprised, "a present? And it's not even my birthday. What'd you get me?"

There was a pause, as if he was savoring the moment, _"I have Batman."_

For a solid second she was sure her heart stopped, "Really?"

_"Yep,"_ he answered proudly, _"I'll send you the address so we can unwrap it together."_

"I'll be there," she replied, before taking the earpiece Bruce gave her and throwing it on the ground, hearing him screaming at her until she crushed it under her heel.

* * *

** AN: I'm pretty proud of myself that I got this one finished so fast, but like I said this was going to be a big one, and once I started writing it I couldn't stop. So I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Thanks friends, until next time! Oh and also, what'd you think of Raven in the last section? I want to hear what you'll think she'll do.**


	10. The Masks that Fight Together

**Chapter 10: The Masks that Fight Together **

**AN: Here's the next chapter and you didn't even have to wait a week for it. Sweet deal, right? I just want to thank all the reviews I've gotten, you guys are wonderful. Also, one more side note, the next update might take a little over a week, just a warning I'm not sure it'll be true. **

* * *

Bruce slammed his hand down on the keyboard, how could he have been so foolish? Let her into his home, let her into the Batcave, let her in, a criminal that he had armed with everything she needed to destroy him and set her free. Enraged at his mistake, Wayne picked up a glass sitting close to him and hurled it against the wall, watching it shattered into a million pieces, Ace looked up in surprise and let out a small whimper.

The cave went silent, even the bats were holding their breath waiting for his next move, but for several moments he was completely still. The old man hung his head, "I know, Ace," he said to his beast, his voice hollow and his eyes misty, "I failed him," guilt engulf him, it was just like when he had failed Tim and Jason, another one of his apprentices, another loyal solider now a lamb to the slaughter. Blood was once again on Bruce's hands, pouring down and infecting his soul.

* * *

He stood there looking like the grim reaper in the flesh, well not literally, but with his dark suit and radiation of death he was pretty damn close. Instinctively, she wanted to bolt, all her life she had been running from demons and death, yet when she was face to face with one she walked willingly toward him like a friend. Before she had reached him, he called out to her, "It's nice to see you again," his voice was kind but she had a sickening hunk that he had never truly acted in that manner in his life and it was, just like in that moment, merely an act.

"Really the pleasure is all mine," she answered, letting the hood fall away, Bruce might have insisted she changed masks but that didn't mean she left hers behind. Once again the bird mask was where it belonged, covering the Raven's face.

He pulled at edges of his jacket, shrugging it closer as his chest swelled with vain pride, "Yes, I suppose it is, you're looking lovely this evening," he commented, his eyes raking over her form. Maybe it was time to consider a costume change.

"As always I hope," she didn't miss a beat, she was sure he could sense fear, like the dog he was, and she couldn't have anything go wrong, her life quite literally depended on it, "you know, I was a little surprised when you called, I never put a hit out on Batman."

"I'm aware," he replied, offering her his arm, which she knew she had to take and leading her through a maze of storage containers right off a boat, "you really should've though, you do great work, my dear, but we could've handled your little bat problem earlier. He's here now because it suits my interest."

"Well I'm glad to be included," she commented, trying to sound more sure of herself than she actually was, "but, and I do hope I'm not prying, why does it suit your interest now?"

He seemed unfazed, which had to be a good sign, instead he shrugged, "You see it's come to my attention that there may be a leak in my organization, someone's talking to that flying rat, and I've identified a prime suspect but the bitch's has up and vanished on me. When that happened not only was I sure I had the right person but also that one of my very important shipments was most likely in jeopardy."

"And you couldn't have that," she chimed in after it all became terribly crystal clear, "so you hired an expert."

"Yes," he told her coolly, "I figure, since the police don't have my snitch, he might be hiding her. Of course I thought, since you've been so loyal to the organization I'd let you accompany me to his interrogation."

"What has happened to him without us?" she dared to ask, willing her body not to shake at the thought of what the Boss was capable of.

A cruel smile played on his lips, "Don't worry, my dear, my people were instructed not to do anything to him until I arrived, with you at my side of course," one of the storage containers groaned as a goon unlatched it. Then the Boss's gripped suddenly tighten around her arm, "it's curious though," he whispered quietly, turning his head to speak in her ear, his breath against her skin, causing her stomach to turn, "you know my traitor, in fact she was the one that brought you to me. It makes me wondered if you can be trusted either."

Her eyes shut, the walls were coming down on her; at the same time she heard footsteps approaching, the muscle had arrived, he was prepared for a fight. Calm and decisiveness, they were her only allies here, she opened her cool blue eyes, "Are you talking about that insufficient little lab rat, oh what's her name? I think it started with a...K, and her last name was... Drake.. right?"

"Cyla Drake," he said slowly, like it left a bad taste in his mouth, "that's the one."

"You think _I'd_ be friends with someone like _her_?" she huffed as if the thought was insulting, "come on, you've met me, have you met her? Jumpy thing, weak as hell. I used her, I needed an in with the Misfits and she provided one. Simply an ends to a mean. Though as spineless as she is I figured she had be smart enough to not to cross such a powerful man."

He studied her, his eyes analyzing her face for any signs of deception, the seconds dragged on, "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, I'm being paranoid."

Touching his arm lightly, she gave him her sweetest smile, "A man in your position has the right to a little paranoia. In your business you either paranoid, a dead man or a damned sucker."

"Yes I suppose," he sighed, before nodding his head, which resulted in two man pulling the container doors wide open. All that was revealed was a metal wall two feet inside the container with another door, this one smaller, a regular sized one, "shall we?"

She let herself breath, she made it, this was far enough, "We shall," she answered and he escorted her forward.

* * *

There he was, all tied up in the center of the room, bonds were good and strong, someone knew what they were doing. Two guards were already there, the woman known as Inque and, she swallowed hard, god she knew him, he knew her under that mask. The man was the one person who could ruin everything, if she wasn't careful he could get her killed.

"Who's that?" she whispered in the Boss's ear, her voice going slightly higher in pitch, quiet enough that only he could hear her, her finger pointing at the guards.

The Boss didn't seemed bothered by the change, "This is the professional I was telling you about, Inque, and this is one of my employees, Bruno right?"

The man nodded to the Boss, "Just waiting on your orders, sir," he chirped like the good little solider he was, his loyalty only to the gang he worked for, she knew that now, knew that she allied herself with the wrong person. Could it be she was wrong along? Maybe she should've listen to other people in her life.

"You know," she turned her face towards him, talking quietly in his ear again, "I'm kind of a shy girl, I thought we were unmasking Bats more privately, just the two of us," she made her voice as sweet as possible without sounding like a child.

He considered her proposal in puzzlement for a moment, "I don't see the harm," then he signaled for the others to leave them, but Bruno hesitated, "is there something you need?" he growled at his employee.

Bruno stared at the Raven for several seconds as if he was looking through her mask, seeing the person beyond, studying her with a laser sharp focus she didn't know he had, "You sure, Boss?" he asked, not looking away from her, "I could stand to make sure...the prisoner doesn't escape."

"If you're so concerned, you can wait outside the door," the Boss grumbled, shooing his lackey away, "now get out, I don't ask twice, kid."

Once the door shut, Raven let out a small sigh of relief, thank god _that_ was over, "It's so cute that your people are so protective," she told him, her voice lighter and more normal to even her own ears, "and I was told it hard to find good help these days. But enough of this, what shall we do first to this masked thorn in our side?"

"I thought we'd start with the fun part before getting down to work," he answered nonchalantly, as if kidnapping followed by torture was a regular thing for him. Raven inwardly shuddered, wondering in horror if that was the case, "shall I do the honors of unmasking this irritating freak?"

The Raven didn't even blink, she stared down at Batan with cold, unforgiving eyes, "Well, what are we waiting for? Go for it."

The look that flashed across Batman's face was that of pure terror, one that she knew all too well, the same panic that would always flood when a costumed realizes everything was falling apart. Leaning over, the Boss took hold of the edge of Batman's mask, but as he started to peel it back, the Raven extended her claws and pricked him in the neck. Batman was still shock when she started cutting his bonds.

"Look I'll explain everything later," she muttered to him, offering her hand to help him stand up, "but right now we have to get the hell out of here, 'cuz that bastard didn't get a whole dose."

He seemed to at least temporarily accept her explanation as he got to his feet, "Inque and probably three guys are out there, you think you're in shape to fight them?" she asked him.

"Fine," he grunted as if insulted by the idea, "they have my belt though, all I've got left it a couple of batarangs," he didn't like admitting to her that he was so empty handed, "also Inque either needs to be frozen or thrown in water."

"I can help with that," she replied, taking a half dozen capsules out of her belt, "those should freeze her," sharing glances, the two headed for the door, "ready?" she waited until he nodded, before swinging the door open.

She rushed out first, grabbing the closest person, a goon she didn't know; she pulled him forward, kneeing him in the stomach, before she pushed him to the ground, knocking his head on the container wall. He probably wasn't out cold but he was out of the fight for now. Next to her she could hear that Batman had gone straight for Inque, trying to take her down with the capsules, but she couldn't focus on that, a big guy, real meat head she had met once, named Ty was coming after her.

Bounding towards her, his speed forced her to think fast, so she jumped back into a handstand, her foot connecting with his jaw. She watched him stumble back, and then she pushed off her palms, pushing her weight, feet first, into the center of chest, knocking him back, where she ended up sitting on him. A groan escaped her lips, but she wasn't through, she balled her hand in a fist and punched his already injured jaw.

Punch number two was about to be deliver when she was suddenly yanked off Ty by her armpits thanks to the first goon. She was thrown back against the container, the impact making a hollow sound as her back hit it. A hand came around her throat, blocking her airway and suddenly she was struggling to breath; she clawed at his hand but he didn't seem to mind the pain, even when blood started dripping down his wrist. Then there was a shoot, a flash of red, and the hand was gone, air returned to her lungs and her brain could process. Bruno was standing a dozen or so feet away from her, pointing a gun where the man was standing, where she was now standing. Even though the man was down, Bruno didn't lower his gun, instead he raised so it was aimed right in between her eyes.

"Where is she?" he demanded, "tell me right now or I'll shoot you."

That's when she made the dumbest move in her career, she froze, like a damn deer in headlights, she didn't move, "I don't know what you're talking about," she called back to him, her hands shaking and her palms sweating, "so how could I tell you anything?"

That was the first time Bruno has ever heard the Raven's voice, and a spark of recognition flickered in his eyes, "No," he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear, "that can't be, you're not, you couldn't be," he was forming any complete sentences but she knew exactly what he was trying to say and it chilled her to the bone.

"I'm sorry," she told him, there was no denying anything, he knew, "you weren't suppose to get in the middle of this," his eyes were a mingle of hurt and betrayal but instead of feeling guilty she felt angry, "don't make this my fault, I didn't tell you and you sold me out as the leak, so we're even."

For a second he just stared at her, then lower his gun ever so slightly, the gesture caused her to relax, thinking the hard part was over, but suddenly he raised it again and his finger went to pull the trigger.

There was no time to move, there was no time to think, as the barrel of the gun leveled with her forehead once more all she could do was accept it, a sarcastic thought popped her in head, w_ell goodbye cruel world and fuck you too_, in her mind it came out bitter. Her eyes shut, she didn't need to see the red laser coming at her just before it ripped through her skull, she'd rather imagine something happier, something better, something worthy of her last thought on earth.

* * *

Inque was gone, he had almost gotten her in the leg but she leaped back and disappeared into a storm drain. When he went to go pull the top of the storm drain off to follow her he found it welded shut, regardless he had other problems, a guy was barreling towards him, Raven miscounted, there were actually four guys.

Whoever that goon was, he was dumb as a pile of rocks, Terry easily dodged the guy's tackle, causing him to lose his footing; Terry swung a forceful kick to the jaw before punching the idiot's nose when he tried to straighten up. After dodging a blind punch, Terry twist his opponent's arm behind his back, and forced him to the ground where he cuffed the criminal. That's when he heard the first shot. The sound made Terry's heart stop, god the Raven better not have killed anyone.

Turning his head, Terry saw the last thing he expected, the Raven being made a victim. She was standing frozen, a crumpled body at her feet, while Bruno aimed his gun at her. He didn't even think about it, Terry rushed over to Bruno and lunged at his arm, pulling both of them to the ground, but it was too late, before they hit the pavement Terry heard the sickening crack of the gun go off once, twice and in the corner of his eyes he saw a figure fall.

* * *

White hot pain torn through her body, she honestly didn't think it would hurt, she hoped her death would be instant; her eyes were still closed but she felt her knees hit the ground first before her elbows and palms did their best to brake her fall. The pain was the only thing telling her she was still alive, that and her rapid breathing as she tried to handle the hurt without passing out. As it became clear to her foggy mind that she wasn't dead, she took notice of where the pain was actually coming from, the worst was her side, where she could feeling blood pooling out of, the other was a sting on the edge of her shoulder.

"Raven, Raven!" someone was shouting from just above her, too loud, "please just don't be dead."

She was still face down on the pavement, but she managed to move her head to the side and force a half smile, "Sorry Bats, you're not getting rid of me that easily," she managed to say before a groan escaped her lips. He gingerly helped her into a half seated, half curled up position.

Instinctively, her fingers cradled her worst wound, but he removed them so he was able to see it, "Looks like a through and through, I doubt it hit anything important since its so far to the side," he told her, "so I'm sorry to tell you this, but I think you'll live."

Pushing him away, Raven slowly rose to her feet, "Well then I guess we're done here," she grunted to him, turning and walking away, each step a laboring effort.

It wasn't hard for Terry to catch up with her, "Come on, Raven, you need medical attention, let me take you back to the Batcave," he offered, and for a moment she hesitated, "it's better than having explain to a hospital how you got shot, you know they're required by law to inform the police of everyone who comes in with gunshot wounds."

"I have a bike here," she told him, refusing to say out loud that she was accepting the offer, "it'll be faster."

* * *

Wayne wasn't surprised to see the pair when the bike came to a stop inside the Batcave, that didn't mean he was happy about it, a scowl was carving even more lines into his face. He watched the two bicker for a short time in hushed tones before Terry just quickly picked her up, and brought her to the surgical table he had to lie on more times than he'd like to admit, Raven didn't seem excited about being treated like a child. Once she was laying down, Terry came over to Wayne, "Can you give me a hand?" he asked his mentor sheepishly, "you know I suck at stitches, I just really need your help."

"Why should I help her?" Bruce demanded coldly, having no desire to have this woman anywhere near him, "she's a criminal Terry, we should call the police and let them give her the medical treatment she needs. That's what Batman would do."

"Well the only reason I still get to be Batman is because she saved my ass, so I'm helping her, with or without you," the apprentice stated defiantly, marching away from the old man.

Terry opened the medical drawer and carelessly fumbled through it, pulling a few things here and there; after watching for a few moments, Bruce couldn't let his apprentice handle it, he was going to do it all wrong. So as much as it annoyed Bruce, he took over, bringing the medical supplies to the table. Instantly, the Raven recoiled, "There's no way I'm trusting you with a sharp object anywhere near my body," she growled, wincing as she tried to get to her feet.

She was so distracted by the old man that she didn't notice Terry slip in on her other side and prick a needle in her neck, "You guys are bastards," she muttered as the world started spinning faster, "I just hope you know that."

* * *

Whatever it was that they gave her it was hospital grade drugs, pure and heavy, she woke up numb, her head weighing almost too much for her to lift. Her first reaction was terror as she tried to figure out where she was, until the memories of the past night came rushing at her. As she sat up, she cradled her aching head in her palm, she was more than shocked to find herself skin to skin, where was her mask? Shit. Well the upside was she was alive, the downside was that she was unmasked.

Her feet hit the cold floor and the world pitched to the side, but she was stubborn, and once the ground stopped moving she started the climb the stairs out of the Batcave. He was waiting for her, just like she knew he would; there he was just sitting in a chair, sipping a cup of coffee, alone, well with his mutt laying at his feet.

"So," he said, before raising the mug to his lips again, which forced her to wait longer, "Cyla, you and I need to talk," he motioned to the seat next to him and she knew she had no choice.

* * *

**AN: One more down, I hope you guys are enjoying the story, and if you are or if you're not feel free to tell me exactly what you think. Please tell me about your thoughts and feelings of the Raven's true identity. I can't wait to show you what happens next.**


	11. Lying With the Side of Truth

**Chapter 11: Lying With the Side of Truth**

**AN: Sorry it's been so long, I've been really busy, my friend came over from Germany and my friends are starting to leave for college, so I've been hanging out with people and throwing goodbye parties, all very time consuming things. Anyway, sorry that I disappointed a bit with last chapter, honestly that was the only way I envisioned the Raven being unmasked, and well, I liked it. Oh well, can't get it right every time. I do appreciate everyone telling me the truth though, reviews always help. So thanks friends and enjoy this chapter, hopefully! **

* * *

Stream rushed out of the teapot, the whistle sound annoying her eardrums, she couldn't believe he still had a kettle. Her palms were sweating as she lifted the pot away from the burner, it was clear to her now that no one but Bruce Wayne could be the original Batman, all they had managed to accomplish so far was a stubborn stand off and already she felt intimidated. The tea was supposed to be a truce, to stop the two from snapping at each other.

Pouring him a cup, she asked, "You want anything in it? Cream? Sugar?" he just glared up at her as he took a sip, "I'm gonna' take that as a no," she muttered to herself as she added a few spoonfuls of sugar to her own.

He put down the cup, "Alright, Cyla," he finally said after a few moments of drinking in silence, "tell me everything, I want a bona fide confession. There's no use trying to hide it anymore, I'll figure it all out."

"I get that hardball is your style, Wayne," she replied evenly, though there was a harsh tone in her voice, "but I'm not some little girl or one of your soldiers, maybe you will find all those file and piece it all together, but I know how hard it is to find all that shit, it'll take you at least a year to get a hold of it all."

Wayne shrugged, "I've got the time," and she believed him, the old man probably lived in that cave, only coming up for food and the bathroom.

"How 'bout this, a question for a question," she offered, her elbows leaning on the cool counter, "I'll even let you start, I promise not to lie, if you don't lie to me. Seems pretty fair, so what do you say, old man? Do we have a deal?" he stayed in stoney silence for a while, causing her to roll her eyes, "look I know it's not your style to make deals with 'people like me' but seriously, I'm not asking for your kidney or you to break one of your precious rules. I've got question just like you, I thought this would make things easier."

He pondered the thought for a moment, before slowly nodding, "Alright fine, I go first," he agreed, something she didn't argue with when he gave her the chance, "what happened to Selina when she left Gotham, why can't I find the records?"

Cyla's lips twisted into a scowl, that was two question, still she let it go, this was probably as good as it was going to get, "When my grandmother, er Selina I guess, left Gotham she really did go straight, she got a job at a desk, nine to five hours, really boring shit, but the past can't be erased," she stole a glance at him, "well you know all about that. Some stuff went missing at the office, I don't know what, I doubt she did either, but they blamed her, an easy scapegoat. So they fired her, no questions asked, not even sure she did it. She didn't, by the way," Cyla look at the old man coldly as if he would assume the same as everyone else, "after that it was impossible to find a job, no one would hire her. That's when a security company approached her, said she was an expert in the field and that they wanted her help, to prevent break ins instead of do them," the young woman's voice and head dropped, sadness in her eyes, "only there was no security company, in was a front to a gang. By the time she figured it out she was in deep, and in love. There was a guy, I don't remember his name, Cole maybe, and she was head over heels for him. But she didn't want to be on the wrong side of the law again, so she went to the feds and they flipped her. She became an informant. The feds got rid of a lot of files and witness protection did the rest."

"Wait, Selina went into witness protection?" Bruce leaned forward, inching to the edge of his seat, Cyla wasn't a good storyteller but it was hard not to be interested in what she was saying.

The girl raised her index finger, "Hold up, Wayne, my turn," she reminded him, "I want to know, did you tell Terry that I'm the Raven?"

"No," the old man said simply, "he wants to know, so badly that it's killing him, but it's not my place to tell him, that's something you have to do all by yourself," she thought knowing would make her feel lighter, but it didn't. God how was she suppose to tell him? Surprise, the person that's been blackmailing you and kicking your ass around for fun is actually your childhood friend, just didn't seem like the right words. "Alright, my question, how'd your grandmother end up in witness protection?"

"She got pregnant," Cyla answered quietly, her fingers curling together, "after that she threatened to just leave the gang, to stop being their informant, so the government offered her protection in exchange for testimony. She stayed in the program long enough to have my mother, let the government bury the records of the birth before she bolted, going underground. Say what you want about my family but we know how to survive."

"Yes your ability of self-preservation is inspiring," he muttered, mocking her.

There was a pause where Cyla said nothing, where she didn't move a muscle. Fear was in her eyes, fear of her question, fear of the answer, but the need to know outweighed her emotions, "Are you going to turn me into the cops?" her voice broke at the end, and he noted that her hands had started trembling.

He felt the smallest pang of guilt as he replied, "I don't know yet," he had to say it because she wanted the truth and the truth was just that, he hadn't decided yet if his and Terry's secret was worth letting a criminal walk free. When he spoke, his gaze had drop, and when he stole a glance at her face, he saw a stoney mask in front of him, one he knew very well, the emotionless vial on her face trying to hide what she was feeling just underneath it. Without saying a word, he reached his hand across the counter and place it over hers, steadying it. The minutes ticked by and they just sat there like that, in the silence, before his words broke it, "why did you become the Raven?"

For the first time since they started talking, Cyla look him directly in the eye, holding the gaze with a steely expression, "I can't answer that," she told him frankly, removing her hand out from under his, "I promised not lie to you."

* * *

Her heart was pounding, so loud it was thudding in her eyes like a drum, she had to hold her books tight so her hands wouldn't shake, after all she'd been through in those past months this should've been the easy part, she shouldn't have been scared, but she was. The school doors stood in front of her and she was too scared to walk in, instead she stood on the sidewalk just staring at them, like a child going to preschool for the first time. Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she almost screamed as she jumped back from them.

"Woh," Terry backed away, clearly shocked at her reaction, "I didn't realize you were so jumpy. Something wrong, Cyla?" he asked, obviously concerned about her.

"Well now that you mention it, McGinnis, I think having a hit on my head has been a little stressful, yeah," she snapped back, and when he tried to act shock she cut him off, "drop the act, I'm working for the Raven, I know," she looked at him shrewdly, hiding the guilt she was feeling since she was still lying to him. At first he didn't look like he believed her, so she added, "you know, that bat problem that you and Wayne have that's cutting into your evenings."

"How many people know?" he hissed at her under his breath, taking a hold her arm and pulling her to his side to avoid being heard.

She shrugged him off, knowing more people would notice their strange behavior and that acting natural was the best solution, "Look, I don't know how many people you've told but I know that it's just me and the bird burglar that are any the wiser."

That seemed to calm him down, "So, why are you out in the open now if there's a hit on you? Aren't you afraid the Misfits are going to find you?" he was still hovering at her side, even though she had started walking.

"Because now that the Raven exposed herself as being the one who was actually all buddy-buddy with Batman, my name is in the clear," she replied, holding her breath as she crossed over the school's threshold, "since no one's gunning for my head on a platter anymore I figured it was safe to start showing up to school again, before my grades drop so low that I'll have to repeat the year over again."

"And you're sure they're not giving you any trouble?" he pushed on, "because you don't have to keep hanging them, obviously it's dangerous, they already wanted you dead once."

She had opened her locker while he was talking, but now she closed it, facing him, "Look, McGinnis," she sighed, placing her hand on the top of his shoulder, "it's really sweet that you want to protect me, but you were right, I made my bed with all those bad choices, now I have to lay in it," she dropped her hand and for a moment he watched her debate something in her mind before deciding against whatever it was and turning away.

"Wait," he said, grabbing her arm, causing her to turn her head around, "that's not what I meant, you shouldn't be risking your life because you think this is some shot at redemption."

A smile curled at the edges of her lips, "Maybe you should take your own advice, Terry," and with that she went up on her tiptoes, barely reaching his cheek, where she planted a soft kiss, "maybe I'll see you later," she took his hand, squeezing it and leaving behind something in his palm when she left. For several moment, he just stood there staring after her because it hit him, for the first time she called him Terry, she had never used his first name before, and though he hadn't yet admitted to himself, he liked the way it sounded when she did.

* * *

"So she handed this to you?" Wayne asked that night. It turned out Cyla had slipped Terry a flash drive with a post it note saying for Wayne from Raven; the old man hadn't let Terry see the files yet but Terry wasn't done trying.

Terry nodded, "Yeah, but she did it so no one could tell," he replied, "figured there's probably something good on it... So...what did you find?"

Wayne was very careful only to pick up certain files, a move that didn't go over Terry's head, "Actually there's a lot of information on the Misfits here," he opened a spreadsheet, "this looks like orders for computer devices and software, and this could be for payroll," there was a pause, "this is almost enough to shut the Misfits completely down," a small smile pulled at the edges of the old man's face, "maybe your friend's not so bad after all."

Those words cause Terry's mouth to hang open in shock, he wasn't sure if he had heard his mentor right, was Wayne admitting that he might have misjudged someone, "Are you serious?" Terry dared to question, though maybe he just should've accepted it.

"Yes," Bruce answered, shrugging off his apprentice's reaction, "maybe this one is worth saving kid."

"And who said little Cyla needed saving?" a third voice suddenly entered the conversation and as the boy's heads spun in the direction it, a masked figure emerge from the shadows.

Wayne didn't even seem at all surprise at the Raven's appearance, "You're getting better," he noted calmly, "I almost didn't know you were there this time."

"Well you know, when you've been getting tips since you were in diapers it's hard not to be good at these sort of things," she commented back, walking over to him, "by the way, you like the little present we sent you? Cyla thought it would be a nice gesture," it was getting more difficult looking Bruce in the face as lie after lie tumbled from her mouth, "you find it useful?"

Whether or not she deserved it, and she was sure she didn't, the old man went along with her game, "The data is definitely interesting, but I have a feeling that's not what you came for, is it?"

"I guess I'm lonely," she replied, lifting herself up and sitting down on the table, her legs swinging off the edge, "you barred me from going out, so I thought if I have to stay in I might as while seek a little company," that was a lie and Bruce knew it, he could read it on her face as easy as words on a page.

"Terry, why don't you bring down some food or something," Wayne ordered nonchalantly, waving the boy away. Once Terry was out of the cave, the old man turned to the uninvited guest, "so what's the real reason, Cyla?"

She looked up at him sheepishly, more like a child than he had ever seen her act before, "I want in," she told him, "whatever messed up little bat family you create, I want to help," she was trying to sound confident but her voice was too soft, her words coming out too rushed, she wouldn't be surprise if he didn't take her seriously.

But she was wrong, the words weighed on him, "Why?" was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

"Same reason Terry needed to be Batman," she answered, biting her lip but forcing herself to look him straight in the eye, "I've sent my whole life thinking that what I was doing was the only way, and though I've never had a ton of options, I should've realized the Misfits were bad news. I want redemption, Bruce, I need it. "

* * *

**AN: I know it's sort of short but I wanted to leave some more for the next chapter. So I hope that you liked this one, but if you don't just tell me, I like to hear other opinions. Anyway, I'm hoping to get the next one up a little faster than it took for this one, but you never know, life, friends and college all get the way. Until next time, friends.**


	12. Time For Two

**Chapter 12: Time for Two**

**AN: So sorry this chapter took longer than promise but I went out of town and had no Internet access. I hope this was worth the wait, some fun Terry and Raven interactions, and so much more. Enjoy!**

* * *

"I'm sorry Bruce, can you run that by me one more time?" Terry stared at his mentor with wide eyes, one of two things must have just happened, either Terry's hearing was totally messed up or the old man had finally lost his last marble. Either way Terry did not like what was going on at the moment.

Wayne turn his head toward the kid, his cold eyes cut through the apprentice like a knife, "Are you going deaf, McGinnis? I said the Raven's going to be working with us, why is that a problem?" he asked when confusion stayed carved into Terry's face, not offering any farther explanation.

"Is there a problem?" Terry repeated in disbelief, "do you hear yourself? I think we have a big problem, you're talking about working side by side with a criminal that you hate, one that's been blackmailing us, and instead of turning her into Gordon you want me to work with this girl?"

"Yes," Wayne answered shortly, more focused on the work in front of his than talking to Terry, "she said she'd be over in about an hour to start training, figured that you two should learn to work as a team. So you might want to change."

"Training?" Terry cupped his forehead in his palm, he could barely process what was going on. In fact, he had started to debate whether or not he was actually awake because this felt more like a dream than reality.

"If I have to repeat myself one more time McGinnis, Raven's going to have no one to practice with because I going to bash your head in with my cane," Bruce said this so matter of fact-ly that Terry couldn't tell if the old man was joking or not, though he hoped for the later.

* * *

"You're early," Bruce commented, it appeared that he alone in the cave, Terry was upstairs and all was quiet but he knew better, "for some reason I thought you'd show up late. You seem like the type that would keep us waiting."

"I considered it," Raven replied as she stepped out of the darkness and went to stand next to Wayne's chair, "honestly though I figured if I wasn't at least on time I'd blow my shot and you don't strike me as someone who hands out second chances."

"Nothing gets by you, doesn't it?" he asked her coldly, sarcasm dipping from his voice, but after a few moments he stopped mocking her and got down to business, "have you figured out your costume change, you know I'm sure the Batgirl suit would fit you or maybe one of the Robin costume's that Dick out grew," he had to make those last two comments, just to dig at her.

"You know you're real cute Wayne," she bit back, "but I already told you, I'm not wearing one of yours. I'm not here to be Batman's little lackey, I want to bring the Misfits down so far that they'll never be able to crawl back and infect the streets, not be a sidekick. We understand each other?"

"I thought you said she wouldn't be here 'til eight," Terry called from the top of the stairs as he walked down to the cave.

She met him at the bottom of the staircase, "What's the matter, McGinnis? I thought you'd be happy to see me," she made a pout, which for once was visible, as she was wearing a domino mask this time.

"Not particularly," he told her, his nose wrinkling at the use of his actually name, why couldn't she just call him Batman, she was supposed to be in that part of his life, "this wasn't exactly my idea, and for the record I think it's a terrible one," he shouldered past her, pushing her of his way as he continued into the cave.

"You'll get over it," she replied, before turning to Wayne, "how are we starting this little training session, hand to hand?"

Bruce pretended to be very focused on what was on his screen, a combination of the Raven's information and his own research, "You two are the ones who need to be able to work together, you figure it out," he shrugged between key strokes.

Terry instantly recognized this as a test, but Raven hadn't known the old man as long, so she smiled, "Hand to hand it is," before she went over to the fighting ring where Terry often faced robotic version of old villains, "come on, McGinnis, I figure this'll be pretty quick."

As much as Terry doubted that combat was the solution to passing Wayne's test, he could let her taunting go unanswered, she just made his blood boil. It was worse now that she knew who he was and he had to work with her, "Bring it on, bird buglar," he snapped back, storming over to the mat.

As the seconds tick by, they just stared at each in their own personal stance; Terry stood as a wrestler would, crouched, low to the ground, arms extended and waiting, shoulders square, yet Raven stood so much more relaxed, her legs shoulder width apart, her hands down at her sides. For some reason, the way she was standing annoyed him, how she was so calm as she stared him down bothered him. Finally he couldn't take it more, starting forward, he barreled towards her, his arms out as he tried to tackle her. A rookie mistake motivated by anger, with great ease she leaped up, just before his fingers were in reach and vaulted over his shoulders; before he could even turn around, she had landed and kicked him hard in side. His ribs ached from the blow and his irritation had only grown, he whipped around, grabbing her leg that was in mid-air from its blow, before he threw her back, which caused her to land on her butt. She wasn't down long though, as he rushed at her, she pushed off her palms, both feet connecting with his stomach.

Now she was standing over him, and he was surprise to find no triumph in her eyes, just a scowl craved into her features, "What's wrong with you?"she demanded, placing her foot in the center of his chest, "you're a better fighter than this, you're just no focusing. Come on, what's going on?"

He didn't answer her, instead he grabbed her foot and flipped her onto her back. There's an audible thud as she landed hard, "Like I'm going to talk to you about it," he grunted, "now get up, I'm gonna' kick you while your down."

"I get up and you won't get another chance to pin me, Bats," she hesitated before calling him Bats, as if she was reminding herself to extend an olive branch, even a small one. Apparently, his sour mood was no fun for her either.

Once on her feet, Raven lunged forward, trying to land a calculated punch, but he easily caught it and threw her fist aside, "You're not as good as you think you are," he growled.

She managed to dodge his next jab but only just barely, now she was on the defensive. As she jumped back to avoid a kick, she landed on a table before she leaped up to a low hanging pipe, lifting herself up and perching on it. Her nose wrinkled as she stared down at him, "What's with the rage? Someone piss in your cereal this morning?"

"Are you implying that you like this new situation we're in," Terry questioned coldly as he attempted to follow her, but she didn't make it easy. Raven was smaller and more agile than her opponent, so a ledge that was just large enough to bear her weight, started to crumble under his.

Now she was sitting too high for him to reach without the rocket in his shoes, and that would break the rules, "Yes actually," she called down to him, "in fact, it was my idea. So maybe you oughta' get off your chest whatever's got you so mad at me," and with that she made her way down to the ground.

As she suspended from a pipe by her hands her foot dangled into reach, and Terry couldn't let the opportunity pass him by. Grabbing her ankle, Terry pulled her down, "So this is just another one of your games then. Can't blackmail me anymore 'cuz Wayne knows who you really are, so you decided to get close."

"Wow, McGinnis," Raven commented coldly, rubbing her back which was sore from impact, "you need to check your ego, not everything's about you. I'm here for my own reasons. The Misfits and I have a score to settle and I plan to level their operation, but I'm not suicidal, I know I can't do it alone. The cops are out of the question, so that leaves you cowboy."

"Oh," Terry muttered, looking down slightly embarrassed.

There was a slightly awkward silence, before Bruce decided to break his quiet streak and put in his two cents, "How about you two stop working against each and start working together," he grumbled as irritable as always, just before he switched on the Killer Croc robot, and the pair didn't have any other choice but to follow his advise.

* * *

Her feet dangled from the table top, it was still a little too chilly to be spending extended periods of time outside but the cafeteria had started to feel like a prison, and the icy air felt better in her lungs than not being able to breathe at all. Biting down into her apple, Cyla looked straight up into the gloomy polluted sky and tried to imagine what it looked like before the factories destroyed it. Blue watercolor sky, with puffy white clouds gliding across them. It was a pretty picture in her mind. Her eyes shut as she chewed another piece of apple, but she still heard his footsteps approach, at least she was getting better at that.

"You know, McGinnis, people are going to start we're dating or worse, that we're actually friends now," she told him, her eyes didn't as she stretched her neck out.

He sat next her and she felt his leg brush against hers, was that on purpose, she wondered to herself, but other than that she had no reaction. Watching her, his eyes glanced over her, figuring she wouldn't notice, before he questioned, "Aren't we already?" His words made her eye peek open and brow raise in a silent question, "friends I mean, I figured after everything we were friends now. Besides since when did you ever care what people thought?"

A chuckled escaped Cyla's lips, "Yeah, you're right," she nodded, her eyes slowly opening, "I don't care what people think," she noticed he looked a little disappointed, so she added, "I guess friends is okay with me too. Was there somethng you needed, McGinnis?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his gaze turning from her to the skyline in front of him, "look I don't know how freely information is shared between you and the Raven but I wanted to give you the heads up, in case she didn't... Things are gonna' start happening and it's about to get dicey and complicated with the Misfits..." he paused, rubbing the back of his head as he grew increasingly more uncomfortable, "maybe it's a good time for you to bail, get out, run."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" she smirked at him.

Terry shook his head, "No, no," his face flushed, and she had to hold a laugh as he stumbled to find his voice again, "it's not that I _want_ you to leave, I just think it might be in your best interest to be as fa away from th fall out of this as possible."

The laugh finally escaped from Cyla's lips, "You know, I feel like we've gone through this song and dance before, you warn of danger as some weird way to protect me and I tell you mind your own business."

Placing his hand over Cyla's, Terry said, seriously, "This isn't the same Cyla, this is just dangerous anymore, it isn't some game where you can reset every time you get in a tight spot," he insisted, "this could mean your life, is the Raven really worth that gamble? Just for once in your life listen to me."

"I can't," she replied, squeezing his hand before getting to her feet, "the Raven and I..we're a team. To abandon her would just prove all the things you said about me, I have to see this through. So I guess you're stuck with me," with that she started to walk back into school.

At first, Terry was just going to let her go, figuring he said all that was needed, but then an impulse popped into his head, so he hurried forward to catch up with her. Reaching, he took hold of her arm and spun her around, planting a light kiss on her lips. His arms encircled her waist, and she responded by locking her fingers in his hair, until the sound of the bell pulled them apart. Terry looked down at her, as if just realizing what he had done, before he suddenly turned and went back into the building.

"Well, that was unexpected," Cyla commented.

* * *

**AN: Holy crap, what just happened? I'll have to write the next chapter so you guys can find out. Anyway, I just want to apologize again for the delay, this chapter was not easy to get through, I suffered from major writers block, which is probably pretty clear. I hope you like the chapter regardless. **


	13. Take Me Out

**Chapter 13: Take Me Out **

**AN: Oh my goodness, my life is so busy, let me tell you this, packing up for college takes forever. So sorry about the delay, but I had to put moving ahead of the story. Anyway, unfortunately with school starting in less than a week for me the next chapter make take awhile as well, I know, I'm not happy about it either. Actually I'm really excited for class to start, just not for the free time to go away, if you know what I mean. I'm getting off topic, my bad, anyhoo enjoy!**

* * *

Alright, it was official Terry was definitely avoiding her; ever since he teamed up with the Raven the two had entered into an unspoken friendship, they talked, sat next to each other in class and she handed him information she had hacked into. Except now she couldn't even get him to look her in the eyes, and all the data she collected was being handed over by the Raven instead of her, well it was still technically her but he didn't know that. If his goal was cutting her out of the operation it was sort of working, a fact that only bothered her more. Finally two and half weeks had passed since the whole kiss incident and she couldn't take it anymore, she cornered him in the hall before lunch.

"You fall on your head one too many times, McGinnis, or are you ignoring me on purpose because I didn't listen to you," she demanded, though she wanted to kick herself for bothering to confront him in the first place, god she was like an annoying, needy girlfriend.

His grey eyes darted away from her and he rubbed the back of his neck, "Oh, umm, I've just been really busy, Cyla. Had a lot on my mind, I wasn't trying to avoid you…"

Cyla's brow furrowed, that was a lie, not only had he completely given it away with his body language but she knew better anyway, "You know I'm not Dana," she huffed, a little bit offended to be treated like that girl, "I know that you're lying to me. Come on, I thought we were friends, in our own messed up sort of way, so why don't you just tell me the truth before I weasel it out of you like I did when we were kids."

Even though he was nervous it was hard to hold back the smirk that twitched on his lips when he thought back to when they were kids. To make him tell her what was on his mind she used to push him down and sit on his stomach in a certain way so he couldn't get up or knock her off, "I don't think you grew enough to do that again, Cy," he told her, trying to get past her, but she shoved him back with her palm, he forget how strong she was, "can you just let it go?"

"I don't let think so," Cyla reminded him how stubborn she was, not removing her hand from the center of his chest to keep him in place and stopping any future escape attempts.

"I figured," he sighed, his eyes dropping again, "look I don't know how you can act like nothing has changed," he ran his fingers through his hair, and she could tell there was something else he wanted to say.

For a moment, Cyla just studied him before her spare hand reached up and tangled in his hair, "Change is relative, Terry," she stated calmly, "I've been told its even a good thing," then she stood up on her tiptoes, pulling his neck down so his lips met hers. Without thinking, Terry's arm encircled her small waist and for a blissful moment their lips molded together perfectly.

This kiss lasted longer than the first, but it was interrupted just like the one before, "Terry!" a bewildered voice cried, it was two pitches too high and it irritated Cyla to her core. The pair pulled apart, and Dana materialized at just a few feet away.

"What do you want, Dana?" Terry asked, his arms instinctively pulling Cyla closer to his chest, which of course made the blonde feel pretty smug.

Dana twitched, obviously both incredibly uncomfortable and now wished that she hadn't said anything at all, "Um…I know we…Well I figured you would…I just didn't think that you'd start…I mean especially not _her_, with your guys' history and all…"

"Look Dana," Terry growled, staring down his ex-girlfriend with uncaring disinterest, "you broke up with me and I get it why, but we're not together anymore so you have no business in my life. I didn't say anything when you started dating someone else so please don't say anything to me now," then he turned away, draping his arm around Cyla's shoulder as they walked down the hall.

As they continued Cyla felt herself relax into him, a small smile playing at her lips, and when they were out of earshot Dana, Cyla gave him a small, playful shove, "So we're dating now?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

* * *

A black mask with a beak, most people would never notice but it had beautiful dark bead work around the eyes and on the forehead, it was a complete work of art. Her finger brushed delicately over the surface, feeling the pits and grooves of the object, after everything she had to put the magnificent treasure on a shelf, well metaphorically, she was actually putting it in a lockbox that she had custom designed. The replacement was less elegant but still she had made sure it would suit her needs, it covered her face slightly better than an average domino mask but with one unique feature, her nose would be covered bridge to tip with an extra triangle of fabric, a smaller version of her original beak. Though this one lacked the extensive beading, it was covered in a tasteful black lace covering, that extended centimeters beyond the actually edge of the mask.

The uniform change was not her idea, instead a demand of Bruce Wayne, Batman couldn't be seen with a felon. In the back of her mind she wondered what the media would call her this time, would they see through the costume change and know it was still the Raven, or would they be fooled and give her a new name; after all, she had never picked Raven in the first place, she merely adopted it from a clever reporter. The only mirror in the room was shattered, but she caught a glimpse of herself the in the remaining cracked pieces, she looked downright deadly. Perfect.

"You're late," Bruce commented gruffly as she made her way down to the Batcave; already the old man was at work setting up the first bust she would be apart of as an official carding carrying member of the messed up Bat clan.

Cyla placed the mask on her face, the technology inside recognized her skin and clung to her features, "I was preoccupied," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders, as she pulled her long hair into a tight bun, "besides where's Terry? I didn't see him anywhere."

"You're calling him Terry now?" Bruce asked, a slight tick of interest in his voice, "I wasn't aware you had reached a first name bases with the kid. Actually I'm surprised you even know his first name."

Wrinkling her nose, Cyla countered, "I've called him Terry before, it's not a crime, and you didn't answer my question, Wayne, where's McGinnis?" she pressed as she slipped on her gloves on before checking her belt for the fourteenth time to make sure she had everything.

It didn't slip past Bruce that she had purposefully called his apprentice McGinnis, "Not here yet, he seems to be running late, just like you. Care to explain the coincidence to me?" he didn't raise his voice but she knew it was a demand.

"Do I look like his secretary?" she retorted, bending backwards to stretch out of boredom, "how am I suppose to know where he is?"

Bruce threw her a pointed look over his shoulder, "I was under the impression that you would, since you were just with him," he stated coldly, which caused the young woman to freeze, damn busted.

Still Cyla kept on her best poker face, "I saw him to do an information hand off, standard stuff. I didn't ask him where he was going afterwards and he didn't tell me," she answered, "end of story."

"You're a halfway decent liar, but I know you're lying nonetheless, your face was flushed when you walked in, you called him Terry and he sent you a text two minutes ago. I bet you haven't checked it because you're worried that somehow I'll be able to see it even though I'm across the room from your phone," Wayne told her. Part of her wondered how he knew all that, but another part was aware that on the off-chance he did tell her, the answer would be one she didn't want to hear, "how long have you two been seeing each other?"

Cyla's eyes fell to the floor, there was no use trying to deny it, "A little over two weeks now. Look Wayne, it's really not any of your business, I mean honestly-"

"Bad time?" Terry's voice suddenly carried down the Batcave and it took all of her willpower not to jump out of her skin, "if you guys are starting World War III again I can go take cover upstairs."

"No," Bruce answered, going back to his work, "you're already late, let's get going before the entire night is wasted. Now, the information collected says that the Misfits are having something delivered to the docks tonight. It's been kept under wraps from everyone who's not directly involved, so its likely to mean it's something pretty nasty. I want you two to check it out, and disarm as many as you can while I bring in Gordon's team."

Raven cringed, "Cops?" she questioned, feeling her skin crawl at the thought, "can't McGinnis and I handle this one on our own?"

"No," Wayne replied harshly, "this is a test run, you two do a good job and we'll move on to bigger fish, but you have to start small," he waved them off, dismissing his soldiers.

* * *

They were waiting, perched in the shadow of a shipping container for what felt like forever, with nothing but silence. It took awhile but finally Terry couldn't take it anymore, "So when are you going to tell me who you really are?" he asked, it was a question she had been able to avoid up until that point. Though at the moment, she didn't see anyway to simply change the subject, or walk away like she hadn't heard.

"I've told you before, it doesn't matter who I am under this mask," she grumbled, trying to hide from him how uncomfortable she was, "can we just drop it, we've got a job to do."

"There's nothing to do yet," he countered, obviously not ready to let it go, "besides I'm suppose to trust you, but you can't even trust me enough to tell me your name. You know mine after all."

A truck pulled in, and Raven watch as the Boss exited, immediately she was gripped with fear and it felt as though someone poured ice water in her veins. For several now rapid heartbeats, Raven found herself frozen, too terrified to move, until Terry place a hand on her shoulder, "Come on, show time."

There were twelve different guards, big bruting man all armed, of course this time was a lot easier than the first time. As much as she didn't want to admit to the old man, the training he had given her and Terry was invaluable, they were working as if from one mind. One goon tried to blind side Terry, coming at him from the left, and she jumped off Terry's back, using both her feet to kick the man in his gut to knock the wind out of him. Another thug managed to get his arm around Raven's neck, cutting off her airway, until Batman elbowed the man, knocking him out cold.

"Thanks," she choked out, rubbing her throat before going after the next person.

Soon after it started the Boss hurried into a running SUV and bolted from the scene, part of her was relieved that she didn't have to come face to face with him, but at the same time anger flared up in her that he wouldn't be put behind bars that night. It was pretty impressive, the last guy went down before Gordon's men even showed up, Terry eyed the storage container curiously, "We should probably check this out, collect some evidence to analyze," he suggested, more interested in satisfying his curiosity than collecting information.

"Alright," Raven replied, but her look was more cautious as they approached. The seal was already broken and as he opened the door, she cringed, figuring it was rigged in some way. Luckily it pulled away without incident and rows upon rows of boxes were revealed.

At first, Raven tried standing on her tiptoes to reach the top box, but she was too short, instead Terry, chuckling at her, pulled it down. Opening the box, he was surprise to find ceramic cookie jars, "What the hell," he grumbled, inspecting them carefully, "this isn't anything illegal," he tossed it to the side, not caring as he heard it shatter against the pavement.

As he continued to rifle through boxes, Raven over the bright-colored pieces, noticing something among the shards. Lightly she picked it up, a large wrapped bag full of green and black pills; looking closely at them a memory stirred at her, "Hey Bats," she called, waving him toward her, "I think I've got something," once he had seen the pills, she asked, "those look familiar to you?"

He shook his head, "No, what is it?"

She couldn't help it, Raven rolled her eyes, "It's called Vertigo, didn't the old man ever show you a picture of it when you went after it before?" she cut out the package and examined one between her fingers, "nasty stuff, my grandmother run into after she left Gotham, there was a lot going through the Glades of Starling city. I thought it fizzled out..."

"Obviously not," Terry grumbled, taking a look at a pill for himself, they were definitely an odd color, "so what's a drug from the 2010s doing in Neo-Gotham?" he wondered.

"More importantly what do the Misfits want with this shit?" she pondered, slipping a pill into her pocket.

Terry took the package of drugs from her and headed toward the jet as the sound of police sirens filled the air, "It's a gang, gangs get involved with drugs all the time. Their probably looking to make some more money."

"I don't know," Raven replied, switching on her communicator as she headed toward her bike, the two traveled different ways, "the Misfits have never really been into the drug scene, if they have dealer than members would be more likely to use, plus building high-tech computer equipment and hacking secure files aren't exactly something someone can do high, and that's where most of their money comes from in the first place."

_"I'm sticking with my theory,"_ Terry's voice sounded indifferently into her ear, _"the mob used to have a code of no drugs too and that went out the window before even Wayne was born."_

"So back when VCRs and dinosaurs were around?" Raven mocked light-hearted as she zigzagged through the streets, not making many friends as she carelessly cut other cars off.

_"I heard that,"_ Wayne entered the conversation, sounding as sour as ever,_ "just bring the Vertigo back to the cave and I'll look at the chemical make up, see how much has changed since my time."_

* * *

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Wayne asked Cyla later that night, as she stood over his shoulder, watching him work and picking up one of the pills every once and awhile, "Terry went home over an hour ago."

"I know, he messaged me," Cyla shrugged her shoulders as she leaned against the table which Bruce was looking though a microscope on, "I figured I'd hang out here for a little while, see I could help or something."

"Well so far you've done absolutely nothing to help, if anything you're just in the way," the old man grumbled, flipping through a few different police report from different cities, all with the same subject, Vertigo, "just go home, Drake, get some rest, it's school night, right?"

"Yeah, but I pull all-nighters all the time, especially when I'm working for projects for the Misfits," Cyla replied, playing with the string of her sweatshirt since she had changed out of her costume.

Bruce's head snapped in the blonde's direction, "You said that it the present tense," he stated, his voice as sharp as a sword, his words a demand, an accusation, and she almost shrunk away from him in surprise.

"You didn't think the Misfits would let me hang around without doing any work, did you?" Cyla explained, making her tone strong as she crossed her arms, "to stay in the club you have to pay the fee," he was still glaring at her, so she added, "but I'm not stupid, every program I create, everything I make and all codes I crack have a fail safe attached to them, when we take down the Misfits I enter a password in my mainframe and it all gets erased."

That seemed to pacify the old detective for the current moment, "Alright," he muttered, going back to his work, "but seriously, Cyla, go home."

* * *

She should probably be nervous, half the streetlights were out, she could see a drug deal happen on the opposite sidewalk, and she heard gunfire close by, in her mind she noted that most teenagers would mistake that sound for firecrackers, but not her. There was little for her to fear, this was a Misfit neighborhood, and as a member she had protection, people knew not to mess with her. Still as she got close to her building, a sinking feeling came over her and she knew something was terribly wrong.

It wasn't evident to her yet what exactly was the cause of her discomfort, but she knew in that moment there was something threatening her safety out there in the darkness. Part of her brain wanted her to stop and assess the situation, but the moment she halted she would alert whoever was there that she was aware their presences, so instead her fingers curled around the knife in her pocket as she continued to walk.

As she got closer to her building the shadow of the doorway moved, slowly taking the form of a man, one walking in her direction. In fact, it became clear that he was making a straight beeline for her; in the flicker of a failing street light, she caught a glimpse of his face, that got her to stop in tracks. It took every ounce of self-will she had to keep her breathing under control and her face expression unchanged. She could not afford to show him fear.

"Well, well little Cyla Drake, finally home," he said coldly as he took a step closer to her, he was ten feet away, "it's a bit late, don't you think?" he asked, eight feet away, "isn't there someone waiting up for you?" seven feet away, "someone worried where you've been?" five feet, "no?" four feet.

She took a deep breath, "What are you doing here?" she asked coldly, her finger opening the blade of the pocketknife without actually revealing she had it, "how'd you find me?"

"You're not as off the grid as you'd like to think," he hissed, three feet away now, "finding you wasn't even a challenge. A lot easier than finding out who you really are."

Air quickly filled her lungs as she gasped, so quiet that he only heard it because he was so close, two and half feet away, "What do you want?" she asked, her eyes as heavy loaded as her heart.

Suddenly he was less than a foot away, she held her breath, but she could feel his on her skin, it smelled with cigarettes and threats, "Right to point, I've always liked that about you," he took her arm, squeezing too hard, "so why don't you walk with me."

* * *

**AN: Looks like Cyla's in trouble again. Who's threatening our villain turn hero? Who knows? Maybe you'll find out next chapter. Anyway, again I feel bad for the delay so I tried to give you guys a longer chapter. I hope you liked it. So tell me your thoughts and feelings on this one, good, bad and in between I take them all. **


	14. Blood on My Hands

**Chapter 14: Blood on My Hands**

**AN: Guess what, I finished early! I'm pretty proud of myself. So it was a little fluffy in the last chapter with Terry and Cyla, but don't worry, this one's a little dark, just warning you.**

* * *

He was walking fast, still holding tight to her arm, they past her building, past her block, she wondered if he would take her all the way out of the neighborhood. Looking around, she found the street deserted, of course, three thirty in the morning was a little late, even for criminals, plus this was a closed down industrial area. not exactly high traffic. As a desperate act, Cyla stopped quickly, but only caught him off guard enough that it made him pause, "Stop it, Bruno," she growled, trying unsuccessfully to pull her arm free, "just stop, and tell me what's going on. Tell me right now."

"I don't think you have any room to be making demands, small fry," he told her as he glared down her. No had called her small fry since she was in third grade and she wondered why he used it now. Was it to remind her of the size difference, because she was painful aware that he was at least a whole foot taller than her? Was it to remind her of their history, because that sort of went out the window when he shot her, on purpose.

She tried to pull her arm free again, failing again, "I'll make as many demands as I want," she hissed, if it had been anyone but Bruno she was sure she could get out of this simple hold, but he knew all her plays, and knew how to counter act them, "after what you did to me, I think you sort of owe me a couple demands."

"After what I did?!" he huffed, his anger bubbling and his gripping tightening so much that a small yelp escaped Cyla, "what I did was nothing compared to what you did. It took me a while to piece that night together, it was all sort of fuzzy after that masked ass smashed my skull, but I remember _everything_ now."

"Okay, so you remember," Cyla stated as she suppressed a shatter. Her eyes were flashing with their own resentment as she stopped struggling, but instead got in his face and pushed against him, a challenge, "then you know, you _shot_ me. You could've killed me, you know that? You're supposed to be my best friend, you told me once it would always be you and I again against the world, but you shot me, **twice**."

He threw her body back like it weighed nothing, like a person would swat an annoying bug, her back hit the wall with a loud thud, and she became disoriented as spots appeared in her vision from the impact, "I should've put one between your eyes," he growled, his breath hitting her face again as his arm pinned her against the wall by her throat, "you're a traitor, you deserve to die."

"I did what I should've done a long time ago," she spat, kicking wildly but hitting nothing important enough for him to release her, "I should've known getting in bed with the Misfits was a mistake."

"No," he told her, his voice now a deadly quiet, "the mistake was leaving us, the Boss is going to collect his debt one way or another, I just wonder which who is going to pay first, how hard do you think it'll be to sneak into your grandmother nursing house? No one will even think twice if one of those old crows croaks, people die in old folk's homes all the time."

Rage tore through her, red tinted the edge of her vision, and thought was pushed aside, replaced with the basic survival skill to survive using that any means. She whipped the knife out of her pocket and jabbed it into his arm that was holding her in place. He cried out, and she pulled it back out as he stumbled back, crimson clinging to the silver blade. It seemed that they both regained their bearings at the same time, and as he rushed at her, his good arm ready to twist around her delicate neck, she jumped out the way just in time. He hand missed her and she slashed the side of his chest, the wound wasn't deep but it was the promise of worse if he continued.

The threat didn't bother him, he threw a forceful but inaccurate punch; Cyla grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back, before she kicked his feet out from under him, causing him to land on his stomach. Before he could make it to his feet, she was sitting on his back and grabbed a fist full of hair, exposing his neck as she pushed the blade to it. There was enough pressure to break skin and line of red ran down the pavement.

"Who else knows," she hissed in his ear, her breath ragged with fury, her chest trembling with fear but her fingers steady with the knife, "who else have you told about me?!"

He grunted as pebbles scratched against his skin and open wounds, "Go to hell," he muttered, waiting for her to take the final step to end it.

"Tell me!" she screeched, smashing his forehead against the ground, her whole body now shaking with both rage and terror.

His vision was blurry and his head pounding, "No one," he finally replied after several strained moments of silence, "I was going to make you do it… I was going to take you to the Boss and have you confess…. I figure he wouldn't believe just my word against yours."

At that point, Cyla's brain had caught up with her actions, and she looked at her hands, which bloodstained and still ready to kill, in horror. What was she doing? She knew she didn't have the best moral compass but this? Killing wasn't what she was going to be known for. She removed the knife from his throat and her fingers released his hair, but she did not fold the knife or put it away, he was dangerous and she wouldn't die for him. Taking a deep breath, she said, "As long as it stays between you and me, you'll get to keep breathing. Tell anyone and I'll show you how deadly the Raven can be."

* * *

It was four in the morning when Bruce's secure line started ring, he had nodded off but the tone instantly woke him and he pushed away the fogginess. He hit the bottom to answer and immediately barked, "Who are you and how did you get this number?"

The sound of sobs was coming from the other end, _"Mr. Wayne?"_ the young woman's voice cracked, _"Mr. Wayne, I...I need your help….I didn't know who else to call….Oh god…God this is so bad…"_

"Slowly, I don't understand," Wayne was now standing up from his seat as fast as his old legs could manage, "you need to explain."

_"I don't know what happened,"_ she replied, her voice shaking_, "one moment I was just walking away and the next he was coming after me. I turned around and he tackled me and then…..there was so much blood. Oh god Bruce, he's dead,"_ Cyla's voice broke and then there was nothing but choking sobs from the other side of the line.

The wind was knocked out of Bruce's lungs, and doubt flickered in his mind, had he finally trusted the wrong person to be one of his soldiers, had it finally happened? She was a criminal after all, who was to say that she wasn't a murderer also. Then he remembered what she had told him once, when she had broken into his home_, 'I wonder what makes me different, well besides the fact that unlike most of them I don't murder people.' _Criminal or not, Cyla Drake was different and he didn't believe that she was the type that would cross that line.

"I have to call Gordon," he told her calmly, "we have to let her in on this."

That seemed to make Cyla more frantic, _"No, no cops,"_ she begged, her voice pleading in way he had never heard before,_ "I can't, you can't, please,"_ she was barely able to form a sentence anymore, and he was concerned that she might be going into shock.

"I have to," Bruce replied, "now do yourself a favor and call Terry, he's closer than I am to you. He able to get to you sooner."

There was a long pause, "_I don't know_," she said slowly, ending in another round of silence as she thought about it,_ "alright."_

* * *

"I can't believe I let you rope me in again," Barbara grumbled, as she picked Wayne up at his house, "I should've just hung up when you called at four thirty in the fucking morning. You know you scared my husband half to death? I don't think he bought my excuse either."

Bruce's face was stoic as he sat in her car, "There are bigger things to worry about tonight, Barbara," he reminded her like she didn't know as she drove through the winding streets down to Gotham's poorest district.

"I hate to say this, Bruce, but a murder down here, not exactly a big thing," she mumbled, almost guilty about the fact, some things hadn't changed since her father's time, "there's a lot of drug and gang activity here, way too many of my detectives have cases on this side of the river."

"Which is why I called you instead of one of your detective, they would just want to wrap this up quickly. I was hoping you'd actually try to find the truth," he stated.

Barbara's nose wrinkled, "Well giving me twenty minutes before the traffic of industrial workers hits that street isn't exactly a lot of time for truth finding."

"Just listen to the girl," Bruce muttered defensively, "she so different from you and Dick in so many ways, but she has the same spark," he took his time saying every word as a way to so his former warrior knew how much they weighed on him.

"You really like this one, don't you, Bruce," she asked him curiously, she hadn't taken much interest in the former Batman's new apprentice but now her curiosity was peaked, "you really believe that she wouldn't break your rule?"

There was a strained silence, before Bruce sighed, "Yes," he answered.

* * *

Even before the car parked, Bruce was surveying the scene, Cyla was sitting on the curb, her head in her hands, her blood covered hands, and Terry sat next to her, an arm around her shoulder. The young man whispered something in her ear, and she fell into him, Bruce caught a glimpse of her face before she buried in his chest, there was a little crimson on her face, a red spot where a bruise was forming, and her hair was a matted mass. The girl looked as if she had been in a fight.

Barbara walked up the young woman before Bruce could, and there was little compassion in her eyes, "I have fifteen minute window to help you, so you need to tell me what happened."

Cyla's blue eyes peaked out, tears and terror still in them, and at first she said nothing at all. Barbara sighed and sat next to the girl, feeling the now familiar ache in her knees, she was getting old, "Okay, let's start over, I'm Commissioner Gor-"

"I know who you are," Cyla cut the older woman off, turning her head to look Barbara in the eyes, "you're Commissioner Barbara Gordon, daughter of late Commissioner Jim Gordon, former Batgirl. I met you once, it was a long time ago."

Barbara was surprised by the fact, but she didn't press the issue simple because there wasn't time for it, "Well alright then," she nodded, "I just need to know what happened here, so I can try to help you."

Lifting her head, Cyla's gaze fell on each of the three faces in front of her, Terry's first, then she paused at Bruce's old features until he gave her his nod of approval, before she turned to the Commissioner, "For the past several months I've been collecting information for Mr. Wayne on the Misfit gang. I've been a member since I was twelve, so I'm trusted, which is why I thought I wouldn't be caught, but I was wrong. Bruno…um, that guy," she pointed to a body over a dozen feet away, face up with a knife jetting from his chest, "found out what I was doing. So when I was walking to my building, which is about three blocks west of here," she pointed in the direction absently, "from there he dragged me here. When I tried to pull away he pinned my up against the wall by my neck. I keep a pocketknife with me, for protection, so I took it out. I just wanted to get away, I didn't want to hurt him, and at first it worked. He let me go and I ran. That's when he that's when he starting following me. I could hear him getting closer, so I turned around, and he went to tackle me. Then….then I'm not sure what happened. I must've put my hands up, because the next thing I know, I'm on the ground, my head is pounding, there's something really heavy on top of me and something wet on my shirt. I pushed his off of me and that's when….when I saw, he was dead," tears rolled down her eyes and she buried herself in her hands again.

Barbara slowly got to her feet, her hand rubbing her hurting knee, then she nodded to Bruce, "Alright, I'm handle this. Just make sure she burns her clothes," she muttered, before heading over to the body.

"Terry," Bruce called for his apprentice's attention, "take Cyla home. She's been through enough tonight, she doesn't need to be here for this," he said, before he opened the Commissioner's trunk.

After he got the distressed young woman in the car, Terry wanted to talk to her, for her to say something to him. Though she had spoken to the other two there, she had been silent when he asked her questions. In fact, the only thing she said was, "Stop here," when they reached her building.

The exterior of the apartment complex was underwhelming and gave off the appearance of uninhabitable, most of the windows were boarded up or broken, paneling was falling off and the letters of the neon sign were either out or shattered. He couldn't believe anyone lived there, let alone someone he knew.

She didn't wait for him to stand there with his mouth hanging, Cyla hurried to the door, which didn't look like in was functional. The frame was boarded up just like the windows, with mismatched panels of wood, but the boards were actually the door, something revealed when she pulled it open. Inside the lobby was decorated in the style from the early 2000s, and the smell was like running into a brick wall, the mingle of urine, a dead animal and rot filled the air. There were a few homeless people who were lying around the place, but she didn't pay them any mind as she started up the stairs. After the sixth flight, Terry was struggling to keep up with her, but she reminded his that he was welcome to try the elevator, though one of the cables was broken.

Her apartment was three doors in from the twelfth floor, but it was clear the moment they left the stairwell that something wasn't right. The door was ajar and bits of her things peaked out into the hallway. Cyla ran her fingers through her hair, the distressed feeling only mounting, "How did they get past my security," she entered her place, "holy shit."

There wasn't a bit of surface that wasn't trashed. Cushions were thrown into, clothes were scattered everywhere, someone had clearly been looking for something. Instantly, Cyla run into the only other room in the apartment, the bedroom, where she opened the closet.

"What are you looking for?" Terry asked, believing that whatever it was someone else had it for themselves.

She ignored him, removing a paneling of flooring to reveal a safe. After scanning her finger and typing in a code, she pulled the entire box from the floor. Then she did the same thing in the kitchen, behind an ancient stove, and again under the welcome mat. Terry wouldn't have thought it was possible to hide that much in such a small apartment.

"You can't stay here," he stated after he took one of the boxes from her, "let me take you to Wayne's place, you'll be safe there," he thought she would protest, Cyla always protested when he tried to protect her, instead she was completely silence as they made the long walk back down the stairs.

* * *

Her screams echoed off the hollow mansion walls, filling the otherwise silent place. A figure rushed through the halls, his shadow draped across the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her thrash around before he held her shoulders steady. After a few seconds of more shrieking, her delicate blue eyes flew open and she clawed at the air.

"Cyla, Cyla," Terry called, trying to bring her out of her nightmares, "you're okay, it's just me. Ow! God, Cy is me," he grumbled as her nails caught his cheek.

The blue eyes came into focus, and she stared at him in almost a confused sense, "I…There was…..I was…It was so dark…I couldn't see, just my hands…But I could hear…It was…terrifying," she leaned into him and he could feel her entire body shaking and something soaked into his shirt, her sniffling told him it was tears.

"It wasn't real," he whispered in her ear, his arm encircling her small waist.

She shook her head into his chest, her fingers curling tightly into his shirt, "But it was real, what I saw…I watched my hands plunge a knife into the blackness before blood spilled everywhere. It wasn't just a dream, Terry. It happened and I can't just wake up from that."

An hour later, the young man walked down the stone step, "Is she asleep?" an old voice called up to him.

"Yeah," Terry nodded as he approached his mentor, "I don't know how long it's going to last though, she's a wreck," he commented, nervously picking at her fingernails.

"I imagine she would be," Wayne commented, as he flipped through street cameras to delete any video that caught the crime, "I left your mother a voicemail by the way, I told her that you were fixing something for me and fell asleep here."

Terry absently mumbled a thank you but his mind was on other things, "What she did, it was an accident. You know that, right?"

Looking over his shoulder, Bruce gave his apprentice a curious look, "_I_ know what she did. I'm just wondering how you do, I mean how well do you really know this girl?"

"I've known her since we were kids," Terry replied, but he felt as though he hadn't really answered his mentor's question at all. That, of course, begged the question, what was the real answer?

* * *

**AN: Holy hell, can you believe what just happened?! This definitely wasn't at all the direction I original planned on taking but when I started I just couldn't stop. So basically the story took control and I'm just along for the ride. I hope you like it, I worked really hard on this one, so please review. **


	15. A Shrinking Surface

**Chapter 15: A Shrinking Surface**

**AN: Wow guys, I can't believe it. This story is the longest one I've ever stuck with and I'm actually really excited about it. So if I don't get to it later, I just want to thank everyone who's stuck with me through the good and not so good chapters, the delays in chapters and wonderfully constructive reviews. I couldn't have gotten this far without you guys. So this here's one more chapter, my friends.**

* * *

"I thought you wouldn't come down," the old man commented, as he poured two cups of tea, only putting sugar in one of them.

The young woman seated across the kitchen counter from him appeared completely disheveled, her eyes were red and drooping, her gold hair a tangled mess, and her arms curled around her middle, creating a waistline in the oversized t-shirt as if she was holding herself together. When he slide the mug at her, she stared at it for several seconds, "Take it," he insisted. It took her another few moments to accept, and even then she didn't raise it to her lips.

"You were a lot more chatty the other times," he observed, every once in a while after a late night Cyla would make her way upstairs and brew them a pot of tea. He had never said anything about it, but he enjoyed the time and the drink, there was a familiarity to it that was comforting.

Her fingers curled around the mug and she looked up him with irritation in her eyes, "There were better things to talk about then," she told him, before she eyes focused back on the smooth white cup in her hands.

Bruce pursed his lips, studying her carefully as two of her finger played with the string of the teabag, "You did what you had to," he said very matter-of-factly, "you should stop beating yourself up about it, maybe you should suit, it might help."

Her eyes closed again, and for several minutes she didn't move, didn't speak. At first he was sure that she had disappeared inside herself again, but then she gazed up at him, "However it happened, my friend is dead, Bruce. My friend, who I've known since I was a little kid, who has always protected me, is dead and I caused it. No matter how it happened or why, I can't take that back, I can't bring him back. Tell me, Bruce, how am I supposed to handle that? Is putting a skin-tight costume on and running on rooftops really going to help me?"

"Your friend that you're so valiantly defending right now shot at you, threaten to sell you out and wanted to kill you, that doesn't really sound like a friend at all," the old man retorted, "and I don't know if this will you help, I don't know if anything can help you, but in this line of work every once in a while accidents happen, people get hurt, people get killed, it isn't easy, it's just the job. I thought you could handle it, I figured you were strong enough, but I've been wrong before."

* * *

The air was warm as the breeze blow across her skin, at least the part that was expose, her breastbone to neck and her ears. Darkness wrapped around her slim body and she felt at home in the shadows, her eyes watched the artificial light that made the city glow, the view was beautiful. Taking in a deep breath, she suddenly took off running, her feet pushed off the ground, and she was airborne, falling through the night, before she rolled upon another roof. She didn't pause, at once she was on feet and running again, this time when she reached the end she jumped out, her hands gripping the metal railing of a fire escape. It almost felt wrong to admit that she was enjoying herself.

She climbed up the fire escape as expertly as a monkey up a tree, finding herself back on a roof in short order. When she was little heights used to terrify her, even a standard balance beam made her shake so bad that she'd fall off every time. Her gymnastic mentor said she had great potential if she could just get over her fear. One night he was walking her home when someone put a knife to his throat and threaten to kill her if he didn't go with the assailant; once they were in the stairwell, she had done something very stupid, followed. She climbed every last stair, followed them all the way up to the roof, only she forgot to make sure the door didn't slam behind her. It made a loud banging sound and the criminal turned in her direction. The assailant pushed her mentor away from him before going after her; she didn't think she just acted, running for her life. Too soon there was nowhere else to run and she found herself with one choice, jump to a nearby fire escape. Without letting herself think, she flung herself from the rooftop, landing the metal of the fire escape in painful lopsided crouch.

Her heart was pounding, adrenaline was pumping through her veins and she was alive, after that Cyla wasn't bothered by heights, in fact, she wanted to be on roofs as much as possible. It made her grandmother proud. The memory brought a small smile to her face and she left out a sigh, the memory stirred something else as well, a question.

_"I see you took my advice,"_ Bruce said other her earpiece, actually surprised she bothered to put it in, _"did it help?"_

A blonde strand of hair had gotten loose and she pushed it behind her ear and ignored his question, "You know when I was little my gymnastic instructor would walk me home because no one ever came to pick me up from practice. I used to say how much I hated going from the nice neighborhood where the gym was to where I lived. Once he told me that the only good view of Gotham was from a god's eye view. I never knew what he meant before I became the Raven," another sigh escaped her lips, "he was one of yours, wasn't he?"

There was a delay in the answer, _"I don't know what you mean,"_ he finally grumbled.

Cyla closed her eyes, "Yes you do, I know you've looked up every public record on me. So you'd know about the gymnastic program I was a part of that gave talented poor kids free gymnastic lessons with one of the best coaches in the US."

_"You're going to have to clarify,"_ the old man mutter, though it was clear he was only staling, he was very aware of who she was talking about.

"Dick Grayson, Wayne," Cyla said coldly, "that's who I'm talking about. He trained kids for the Olympics, ten of them made the team, three of them have metaled, and two more received the gold. Probably could've double that number by now if he were still alive. I hadn't thought about him a while, but ten years ago today I started training with him. When I was kid I never noticed it, but now I see, that look in his eyes, that unforgiving drive, it's on your face too. He was a Robin, wasn't he?"

_"I'm sure you looked me up too,"_ he replied, his voice sounding more distant as if he were putting up a wall between himself and her words, _"you tell me."_

"I thought so," she nodded, her eyes shut, "and in case I forget to mention it later...thanks...for everything."

* * *

The weather was warming up, he could feel it in the air as he waited outside the school, while his eye glanced around the grounds, waiting. Though he didn't turn, he heard the soft footfalls approach, a familiar sound to him, probably always would be. She didn't touch him, which was smart, but she hovered too close for his comfort.

"Terry," she finally stated, she had said his name so many time in every tone imaginable and the only thing that came to mind now was that he wished she'd stop, "aren't you gonna' go inside?"

"I don't see how that matters to you," he replied, still looked straight ahead, "besides that's not what you want to ask me," he was sure she was going to deny it so he beat her to it, "come on, Dane, I know you too well. So, what do you really want?"

She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes fell to the ground, "I don't know," she answered, her voice quiet, "I guess I'm sort of worried about you. You skipped school last week and Max been saying how off you've been…." She trailed off unsure of where she was going with her sentence.

"I've been dealing with some things," he told her through a clenched jaw. It wasn't as if getting over Dana had been easy, she had definitely been someone that he had loved, and when he saw her with her new boyfriend he would be lying if he had said that he didn't feel jealously burrowing in his gut. That was in the past though.

"It's the kind of things you're dealing with that make me nervous," she countered, touching his arm lightly, "you know, ever since you started talking to _that_ girl again-"

Terry pulled his arm away from her, "That girl has a name," he bit back, cutting her off, "and that girl is none of your business. If you wanted a say in my life you shouldn't have broken up with me."

"Bad time?" Cyla asked, her face stone cold as she materialized in front of the two, "because I can walk away and let you guys battle this out in private."

Blood rushed to Dana's cheeks and her gaze dropped the ground, "Oh, um, Terry and I were just talking. It was nothing really."

"Yeah, I figured," Cyla replied. She wasn't sure if Dana was trying to make sure Cyla wouldn't freak out, only insecurity wasn't something she often felt, and it certainly wasn't plaguing her now. The bell rang and the tense standoff was forced to end.

* * *

The old subway tunnels were dark and creepy, not to mention they smelled awful, like something up and died, because it probably did. Most of the underground subway were abandon in early 2020's when the majority transportation was moved above ground. Now it had a new kind of foot traffic. Shadows bounced off the walls and noises echoed through the tunnels, to a newcomer it would be intimidating and terrifying, a place to get lost in.

"You're in early, Drake," a man said as he walked up behind her. His name was Tre and he had been guarding the tunnels since before she showed up in the Misfits. In the gang he was a heavy weight, up on the surface he was an ex-con with no family, a nobody, just the sort of people the Misfit's targeted.

"I got called in," she commented back, shoving her hands into the pockets of her dark sweatshirt, "had to skip my last class for this, so it better be important. You know anything about this job?"

Tre shrugged his shoulder, but there was something in the way he glimpsed at her, she knew he was in on the assignment, "Boss might have mention it to me, it supposed to be pretty big. If I remember him correctly the phrase was, game changer."

"Game changer?" she raised a curious eyebrow as she gave him a sideways glance, "sounds really essential to the gang. I'm surprised that Boss would trust me after the whole mistaken identity problem a couple months ago."

"I didn't make that decision," he replied as they entered into a make shift mechanic shop, "if it were up to me you wouldn't be around anymore."

His words sent shivers down her back but she maintained composure, "Then I guess I should be grateful that it's not up to you," she retorted, before opening the door to her own personal area that she referred to as the Lab.

Standing the middle of the room, hands in the pockets of his fancy jacket was the Boss. His presence made the air feel twenty degrees colder as goose bumps appeared on her skin. Swallowing the instinct to bolt, Cyla walked into the room, where she stopped at her work station, a metal table covered in computer parts. At least now there was something between them, it made her feel a little safer, just a tiny bit.

"Hello my little computer muse," he purred at her, walking to the other side of the table, "I'm so glad you could make it," his palm leaned on the table, and even though it wasn't touching her, it made Cyla's skin crawl all the same.

Playing with the strand of her hair, Cyla's eyes darted around the room, anywhere but his face, "Yeah, well, I figured that, um, I better do as I'm told. Last time I went MIA it nearly cost me my life," she retorted, though she probably shouldn't have.

"Yes that was rather unfortunate," he commented without feeling, she doubted if he saw her situation as unfortunate at all. Then he began to step around the table, getting rid of her only barrier, "I'm just glad that you've seemed to learn from your mistakes. Wouldn't want to spill your pretty, little blood without purpose, now would we?"

The Raven would make a witty reply, she would bite back, she wouldn't be made a victim, but she wasn't the Raven, she was Cyla Drake, the timid, nerdy computer tech. So she hunched her shoulders, "I'd definitely like to keep my blood in my body," she replied, shoving her hands in her pockets, "um, so…why am I here exactly? I mean, I finished my last project two nights ago…. So um…"

"Actually, I need you to do a little personal favor for me before we get to the big assignment," he told her, taking another step towards her, he was so close that she could smell the hotdog that he must have had for lunch, there was a vender right outside one the of alley entrances. She was doing it again, coping by taking note of every little detail. When he brushed his fingers through her hair that had fallen in her face she jolted out of her thoughts, "oh hush, I'm not going to hurt as long as you do exactly what I ask."

Her hands were trembling and her heart was racing, everything in her head told her to get the hell out of there, but she stayed rooted to her spot, "So, what are you asking," she questioned, trying her best to keep her voice strong but she was sure that she didn't fool him, not for a moment.

"One of my boys," he answered her, staying well into her personal space, he knew it made her squirm and he was enjoying it, "a favorite of mine actually, is missing. He's disappeared once or twice, but he always resurfaces when I need him, not this time though," he cupped the back of her neck and forced her head to turn to the side, where he hissed in her ear, "his name is Bruno Amaro, I believe you know him."

She shut her eyes tight, so that the tears wouldn't run down her face, and even though she tried, she felt her entire body shaking. It didn't matter though, by the time her emotions rose to the surface and she collapsed to the cold, metal floor, the Boss had disappeared, though the pressure on her neck lingered and she could still fell the heat of his breath against her skin. Her eyes remained closed as tears leaked through, and she felt the ground melting from under her.

* * *

"You're on my computer," Wayne commented coldly, as he slowly made his way down the stairs it felt like every day the every step got a little bit more difficult to tackle, each time they made him feel just a little bit older, "why are you on my computer?"

The blonde ran her fingers through her hair and a frustrated sigh escaped her lips, "This was the only safe place to do it," she replied, her eyes glued on the screen as she continued to feverishly work away, "anywhere else can be tracked. I can't risk that."

"Okay, and what do you think you're doing on my computer," he question farther, his patience quickly running thin with the girl. He had faith in her, and deep down he actually liked her, as much as the grumpy old man could, but he didn't like people playing with his toys.

"I just," she was going to lie, make up a story, but she changed her mind, "the Misfits are looking into Bruno's disappearance. I know we went over the camera feeds but I have make sure, and I found a couple cameras with bad angles. If we miss this Wayne how much else could we have let slip through the cracks?"

Bruce walked over to the screen for look at what was panicking the young woman, and he clearly wasn't impressed, "Drake, that's a sliver of your shoulder for a half second, the reason I know it's you is because of the time stamp and location. This isn't evidence, this is you being paranoid. Why?"

"The Boss visited me personally," she explained, as she turned around to look him in the eyes and he could see the fear in them, "and asked me to find Bruno. He doesn't make personal visits, certainly not for something as trivial as a search party for a member. Something's up, Wayne. They know something and now they're playing with me."

"This case is getting to you," the old man pointed out, "you need to take a breather and get some distance, some perspective."

She rubbed her forehead and let out a heavy sigh, "You're right, I know you're right. I just…I've learned how to deal with a lot but this…no one ever taught me how to handle this," she rose to her feet and grabbed her bag, he knew she was heading out there.

"I know, kid," he muttered, sitting down in his rightful chair, "I know."

* * *

She thought about running out in her dark, tight costume with her mask and just leave her problems with her other identity, it worked before. Yet she doubted that every time she tried to forget that the memories would fall away with every leap, but that wouldn't fix the problems, only bury them. On the other hand, what the problem with hiding them for one more night.

"Thought you weren't going to show tonight," Batman commented when she meet up with him on a rooftop; supposedly the T-gang was going to rob the blocks shops, all at once. That meant a lot guys and a lot of weapons, anything from baseball bats to guns.

She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes scanned the street which appeared deserted, "I thought about calling it a night. Had a long day," she commented coldly.

"I know the feeling," he replied. The conversation came to end when the Ts showed up, right on schedule. The gang was full of boneheads but at least they could tell time, pretty impressive.

Now fighting side by side seemed second nature, the Raven seemed to know when to defend Batman's weak spots and Batman could tell when she didn't notice a T coming after her. In fact, he noted that during the fight she seemed rather distracted. Even though she was still fighting well it wasn't up to her usual standard, it took her twice as long to take down her half than it normally did.

"Something you're not telling me?" he demanded as they caught their breaths, Ts cuffed and cops on the way.

She didn't jump to answer his question quickly, instead her gaze skated away from him, focusing on the skyline of the city, "Just working a few things out is all, Bats," she finally told him, "you can't say that these last couple weeks have been a cakewalk. Our mutual friends and I have been trying to keep a lid on the Misfits questions."

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," he muttered, but she noticed that he was little more tense, "do you know how she's doing? Cyla, I mean."

"She's a tough girl," Raven replied as she rubbed a tender spot on her side where she had taken a nasty hit from a T, "she's doing the best she can, but I figured you'd know about what's going with her. Haven't you been staying over? At least that's what she implied..."

"That's not really_ any_ of your business," Terry mumbled, his eyes fell to the ground, "anyway, um, maybe I should finish up early tonight, go check on her. It seems a little quiet, I think."

"I'm sure she'd like that," Raven replied, hiding the fidget as she formed a plan in her head, "well, I'm going to head down to the Historical District, I heard there might be a new smuggling ring in one of the old building across from Crime Alley. You have fun, lover boy."

Once she on the street, she fired up her new bike, a gift from Bruce for being a good girl and rushed through the city as fast as she could. Almost immediately, she heard Wayne's voice in her earpiece, _"Cutting it a little close, don't you think?"_ he mumbled, almost toying with her.

"Tell me something I don't know," she grumbled back, hurrying to make a yellow light before weaving through slower moving traffic.

_"Harley sent me an anniversary card to the police station for seven years each with a different type of poison,"_ Bruce stated coolly, _"they arrived a week late from actually date of the day I first fought her." _

"Thanks for that, smartass," she growled, as she barely avoided being clipped by a truck, "look can you just distract him for a second, tell to check something for you, anything. Please Bruce, you promised you'd keep my secret, so help me keep it."

There was a pause, and panic twisted up in her chest, it could finally be over, the line she had trended these long months, this dangerous balancing act may be about to come to a terrible end. It all hinged on the old detective, and she was starting to get annoyed with how much of her life did, like a puppet with string. Finally, she heard his voice,_ "Just this once, kid_," he replied, lifting a weight from her, _"but I never promised to help you, just that I wouldn't be the one to tell him."_

She didn't say anything back, she wasn't what she would've said anyway. When she returned to the manor, parking her bike in the cave like she was suppose and hurried upstairs, but she didn't check to see if Wayne was sitting at the computer. Instead she hurried straight up to the room that Bruce had let her stay in, it was the safest place for her now. The moment the door closed behind her, she was peeling away her suit, feeling it fall away and hit the floor, her body than bathed in the moonlight. Her hand reached up and slowly, like she was cradling flower petals, she took the mask from her face. Gathering her other identity, she went to the impressive wardrobe, lifting the fail bottom to reveal the safe, before punching in the code where she placed the items inside.

Once she was dressed, in a large t-shirt and jeans, she headed down the to kitchen with her laptop. As the microwave hummed with her instant mac and cheese, she started to scan through her files, collecting up all the data she had on Bruno for the Boss. By the time, Terry entered she had finished half of her dinner, and was nearly done with her work. He walked up behind her, his fingers trailed up her back, as he leaned over her shoulder, his hands curled around her shirt, "You know," he muttered, his breath against her cheek, "that's my shirt."

"Then you should keep better track of it," she answer, a smirk playing on the corner on her lips, "I found it on the floor four days ago, it's mine now."

"It looks better on you anyway," he told her, before his voice dropped off as he focused on her laptop screen, "why are you looking at that shit?" he asked, his fingers curling comforting around her arms, "I thought you said you put it behind you."

A sigh escaped her and she leaned back into his chest, "I am, I guess I was just looking through it, make sure there wasn't something I missed," she half lied, knowing that she told the truth he would go all protective on her again. Standing up from her stool, she took his face in her hands, cupping his jawline, "I'm done though, I promise, so let's just drop it," she said, before pulling up and planting a kiss on his lips.

After a few moments, he pulled away, "So you're okay?" he asked, clearly not actually letting it go, "the Misfits aren't giving you any trouble?"

She rolled her eyes and leaned her head back, "Terry," she groaned, her irritation growing as her fingers balled into fists, taking hold of his t-shirt as well, "I'm not five years old, so I don't want a babysitter, I want a boyfriend. I'm fine, I know I sort of freaked out, but I've got this handled now. I'm not made of glass, I don't just shatter."

"Well in that case," Terry smiled as he leaned down to kiss her again, and lifted her onto the counter, touching her side.

The contact with the bruise caused Cyla to wince, and she felt Terry hesitate, "It's nothing," she quickly muttered before he had too much time to think about, "I wasn't watching where I was going and ran into the side of a desk. Really nothing," she insisted as she pulled his lips back to hers. He believed her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that one day she wouldn't be able to so easily explain away an injury. What would happen when he finally out the pieces together? What would he do when she couldn't keep up the lie? As she lead him upstairs, she couldn't shake the fear that all this was temporary.

* * *

**AN: I know, I know, another long delay. What can I say, classes, man, and a social life, I actually have one of those now. Anyway, I tried to make it up to guys with the longest chapter to date, one that includes a little bit of everything. I hope you enjoyed it. If you didn't tell me, if you did, I'd love to know. Until next time, my friends.**


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